


bonded (in your arms)

by Ran



Series: bonded [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Learning To Communicate, M/M, POV Lance (Voltron), Pining, Slow Burn, i just want them all to be a happy space family, lead up to s3
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-26
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-03-09 13:19:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 52,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13482309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ran/pseuds/Ran
Summary: And that, well.ThatLance gets. It’s what always pulled him towards the sky; everything is stretched so far it’s as if he could see everything, but he knows he’s not actually seeing anywhere near the all the secrets that infinite space held. It was everything and nothing, and he was somewhere in between.So he hums in understanding, forcing his eyes away from Keith and back toward the stars. The fight leaves him at the honesty in Keith’s voice, and even Lance knows better than to break whatever fragile thing hangs between them right then. It’s too tight and new, like a fresh scar just waiting for the right pressure to split open again.Or, where these two boys have something fragile and try to learn how to keep it safe.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this incredibly and utterly self-indulgent fic has been in the making for many, many months. It started out as a long one shot yet here I am, making another chapter fic that I hope I don't regret LOL. This time I have it about 50% written already, so that means chapters 2 and 3 are actually near complete! 
> 
> I'm eternally grateful for my two wonderful betas and friends [Benni](http://oikwatru.tumblr.com//) and [Steph](http://fastfallingstar.tumblr.com/). Without them, I would have never been able to get this far without completely losing motivation. Go say hi if you want some awesome people to cry over Voltron with!

* * *

  

_let me breathe you in til gravity bends and we fall through the hole in the light_ \- surefire, john legend

 

* * *

  

The first time it happens, Lance almost thinks it’s an accident. Like, he’s a pretty tactile person. He’s not ashamed of the fact he shows affection in a very physical way with his friends. He’s more than used to being crushed into a hug from Hunk, ruffling Pidge’s hair- against their protests but whatever, and he practically _lives_ for the moments Shiro places an approving hand on his shoulder. Even Coran and Allura seemed to have learned the best way to show Lance appreciation is through _touch_ of some sort; Coran’s attempts at fist bumps were a sight to behold, and Allura on more than one occasion has actually given him _side hugs_ , okay. 

But not Keith. Unless it was to save someone’s life, or if it was Shiro because who _didn’t_ want to be close to Shiro, Keith never seemed to initiate any physical contact with anyone on the team. And that was fine, that was cool- Lance knows the touchy-feely isn’t for everyone. Different strokes for different folks and all that, _heh._ Strokes.

The point being, Lance knows Keith and the Keith he knows doesn’t _cuddle._ Except when he does, apparently.

So, yeah. It’s more than a surprise when they’re all debriefing on the sunken couch after a reconnaissance mission for a possible Galra-conquered planet, each one of them dealing with the excess adrenaline on their own terms while still trying to focus on giving as many details as they can remember, and Keith leans into him almost-casually. As in, one second Lance’s leg is jiggling in the annoying way Pidge always glares at him over and he feels like he might burst out of his own skin from the energy still pumping through his veins, and the next second he has a pretty solid weight pressing into his shoulder. The shock of it is actually enough to draw out some of that energy and channel it into absolute _confusion_.

Lance isn’t the only one questioning whether or not the Twilight Zone is an actual place and if they had somehow unknowingly traveled to it, because Shiro had been watching the entire thing with one eyebrow raised. Lance would shrug, but _well_. He looks down to see Keith’s eyes barely open, and Lance suddenly remembers how _hard_ Keith usually crashes after particularly exciting missions and that makes way more sense. He’s just exhausted from all the adrenaline, and Lance can understand that; whenever he manages to actually settle down after a mission his body feels so strung out and worn that he could probably sleep for a week, but it’s just the actual settling-down part he’s always had trouble with. Keith doesn’t seem to have that problem, looking like he might actually already be hitting that sweet REM cycle, the way his arms are crossed tightly over his chest the only hint to how much he’s probably still stressed from their mission.

But Lance can understand exhaustion, and knows sometimes it makes you do weird things. And because he’s just a totally noble and amazing person, he decides to just let Keith crash on his shoulder. He settles back into the couch, Keith moving with him in his sleep, and gives Shiro a look that says _beats me, man_ before going back to listening to Hunk’s relay of his information. It doesn’t matter anyway, since he highly doubts Keith would be caught dead doing this again.

* * *

 

Lance likes to think he Knows Keith. As in, _knows Keith_ , okay. Like, in order to officially declare someone your eternal rival of epic proportions there’s a fair bit that you need to know about them. If anything, Lance is definitely _not_ a half-assed rival and because he does his homework sometimes the things Lance absolutely, one-hundred-percent knows about Keith are as follows:

     1. Keith is not a morning person. Lance found this out after much observation of half-asleep breakfasts and had consequently decided mornings were the _best_ times to challenge Keit

                    a. It was then learned, through trial and error, mornings were actually the _worst_ times, because Keith was somehow even _more_ reckless when groggy.

     2. Keith is really bad about getting lost in his own thoughts. Like, seriously, it was alarming how frequently Keith retreated into whatever happy place a mullet-sporting, emotionally congested boy came up with. Before, Lance thought these moments would be perfect for an ambush.

                    a. Now, he just gets left frustrated trying to figure out what that boy had going on upstairs that must be _soooo important_.

                    b. AND NO, IT’S NOT BECAUSE HE WANTED KEITH TO HEAR THE ABSOLUTELY HILARIOUS JOKE HE TOLD, _PIDGE_ , THANK YOU.

     3. Keith is a tireless fighter when his life is on the line.

                    a. Keith is a ruthless fighter when his friends’ lives are on the line.

     4. Lance would trust Keith with his life.

                    a. Even though Keith is stupid.

     5. Keith. Does. Not. Like. To. Be. Touched.

The problem with this very accurate, time-tested list of things Lance Absolutely and Positively Knows About Keith is that it apparently isn’t actually true. At least, not completely. And Lance doesn’t know how he feels about that. 

He doesn’t know how he feels about that weird-ass Twilight Zone moment apparently _not_ being a one-off that they both pretend never happened.

Lance likes to think he joked off any awkwardness of that moment pretty easily after Keith had woken up, having shot off something about “was that a bonding moment too, buddy?” and Keith shoved at his shoulder with a glare, yawned, and then went to his room- and that was that. Keith hadn’t been any different afterwards. Lance was cool with it. A-OK. Didn’t have any problems with it. 

But then. 

_But then._ Keith had to go and do it again, the bastard. 

Lance is smooth. He is quick with a wink and a smile, a flirtatious comment rolling off his tongue before he can even stop himself sometimes. His charm is one of his ( _many_ , thank you) strengths. Which is why it _pisses him off_ that his brain wants to short circuit at the feel of Keith slumping against him in the control room of the castle, weight just barely pressing him back into the wall as Coran goes off on some sciencey-magicy tangent about reflective light and shields and the composition of the castle’s defenses. Pidge and Hunk were practically making heart eyes at the in-depth explanation that was spurred on by some offhand comment from Shiro, but Lance had lost interest about seven minutes ago. 

Both Lance and Keith had settled in against the wall, knowing it would be a long one this time by the glint in Coran’s eye, but Lance wasn’t about to begrudge them this despite how much he had wanted to complain. Lance knows they have all been stressed from the near-constant liberations they aided in and one way Pidge and Hunk felt better was by understanding something enough to feel in control of it. Plus, neither of them ever turned down a lesson about the castle’s inner-workings when offered. 

Shiro was looking over maps with Allura while Lance tried to avoid eye contact with Coran as to not be roped into participating in the lecture when Keith’s shoulder overlapped his, head mostly leaning on the wall but Lance’s nose still being tickled by stray hairs. Which is how he ended up here, speechless for the past minute and trapped in the corner between a wall and a pilot. 

Lance’s mouth opens on a comment about personal space, because this is _weird_ , but something makes his mouth click shut as quickly as it fell open. He isn’t sure what it is- maybe it’s the actual vulnerability Keith is showing right now, eyes shut and chest rising slowly, barely standing on his own feet except for the wall and Lance’s weight behind him. Maybe it’s because of the possibility of holding this over Keith’s head for the next eternity. Or maybe it was the smug satisfaction of being the _only_ one he’s seen Keith be like this towards-

Wait.

_Shit._ He _is_ the only one Keith has been this way towards. What the hell did _that_ mean?

 

* * *

 

Okay, so, this was going to be A Thing. A thing that Lance has totally not been thinking about constantly for the last three weeks and five days since it first happened. Nope. Definitely had not thought about the next _four times_ it happened, at all. It was decidedly pushed to the deepest corner of his mind and locked up tight because he was not gonna touch _those_ complicated feelings with a ten foot pole.

His _total lack of thought_ given to it still did not stop it from being A Thing that apparently exists, now. It did, however, contribute to being completely thrown off guard the night he finds Keith while walking off some of his _not nervous, but not quite right_ energy left over from that day’s mission. It was a new planet this time- always with the new planets and the rescue missions and the praise of newly-emancipated peoples. Lance, still buzzing from thrill of the fight, was wandering the castle after everyone else had gone to their own quarters, all physically and emotionally drained. Lance’s own room felt claustrophobic all of a sudden, pushing him out into the halls of the ship and feeding his momentum all the way down to the control room. It was the only place overlooking the vast horizon of nothing but stars after stars, and Lance knew it was the only place that _wouldn’t_ feel claustrophobic to him right then.

Which is where he finds Keith, almost curled in a ball in the seat Lance was only used to seeing him in while they were flying through space, always sharp-eyed and full of a quiet intensity Lance used to hate. Usually still hates.

Lance almost turns back and pretends it never happened, but Keith turns his face slightly towards him in the same moment Lance takes a quiet step back. There’s a soft hum from somewhere deep beneath the castle’s walls, mechanical but comforting, and for a moment nothing else passes in the air between them. Keith is looking at him in a way he can’t decipher, but that isn’t new- rarely can he tell what Keith is thinking, unless it’s about to lead to him doing something stupid. Which, actually, isn’t all that rare of an occurrence.  

Too much time passes for Lance to make some joke about coming here often, and he wants to turn away because the energy bubbling in his chest tells him this isn’t what he needs- he needs to run, or swim, or do anything else except be _here_ , eyes locked with a stare he doesn’t want to understand. Instead he feels his socked feet taking muffled steps toward the front of the ship, eyes forcefully trained on the stars, stopping beside Keith and purposefully sitting down a couple of feet away. He can feel Keith’s stare follow him all the way down to the floor but he ignores it because Lance isn’t too sure what he’s doing yet and can’t answer any question those eyes may have for him.

When enough time passes that Lance is like, 98% sure Keith must have gone back to staring at the stars instead of him, he finally releases his stiff posture and his muscles uncoil with a stiff ache. His arms rest on top of his knees, chin digging into his forearm. Lance hears Keith let out a long breath and then there’s sounds of settling, just quiet shuffling as Keith gets more comfortable.

So they sit there, the stars static before them as the ship rests in the safety the newly-liberated planet’s moon provides and Lance tries to not think about anything. He tries, but he fails, because there are too many questions that he’s pretending to not have.

“Why?”

The words are too loud against the mechanical whir whispered through the ship, and Lance almost regrets letting it slip out. Almost, but not quite, because he does want to know _why_. He just isn’t sure if he’s asking why Keith is here, alone and getting lonelier with only the stars as company, or why Keith has been using him as a human body pillow recently.

He doesn’t think Keith knows which he is asking either, so he seems to take the easiest question to answer. Lance doesn’t know if he’s relieved or annoyed; he decides it’s probably both.

Keith still struggles to find words, so Lance finally gives in and tilts his head to face Keith. He doesn’t think it helps Keith find a satisfactory answer, but he also doesn’t really care since Keith is the reason he’s been pretending to he hasn’t been obsessively overthinking the last few weeks. So, he can’t find it in himself to feel bad for making Keith a little uncomfortable.

“I can’t… Think, sometimes. Locked in my room. It’s too…”

Lance gives him a minute to find the word he’s looking for, but when he can tell the search is coming up empty he supplies, “Small?”

“Loud.”

Lance stares at him, almost but not quite understanding. Keith shifts, eyes flitting to the front of the ship before finding Lance again. 

“I guess because it _is_ small, but it just gets. Loud. I don’t know how else to describe it. Overwhelming, maybe.” Keith looks frustrated, like that still isn’t the word he wants but his mouth won’t form the right syllables to satisfy him. He purses his lips, and Lance swears it’s just shy of a pout. “I can’t stand being surrounded by it; it helps, looking out here and seeing more than I’ll ever see.”

And that, well. _That_ Lance gets. It’s what always pulled him towards the sky; everything is stretched so far it’s as if he could see everything, but he knows he’s not actually seeing anywhere near the all the secrets that infinite space held. It was everything and nothing, and he was somewhere in between. 

So he hums in understanding, forcing his eyes away from Keith and back toward the stars. The fight leaves him at the honesty in Keith’s voice, and even Lance knows better than to break whatever fragile thing hangs between them right then. It’s too tight and new, like a fresh scar just waiting for the right pressure to split open again.

Everything has been too much for Lance lately, anyway; he can’t take any more scars.

It’s a struggle to keep quiet, though, since being near Keith when his nerves are still raw and exposed from battle is like flicking embers onto dry brush; that restless and incendiary potential is still thrumming under his skin, but he tamps it down in order to stay in this moment. He wants to have this- this small moment of calm that seldom exists between them, but hearing Keith’s soft breaths beside him shoves every thought he’s been suppressing to the forefront of his thoughts, overwhelming his already hyper-vigilant mind.

Lance always found it easier to think through issues by talking- usually to himself, but he has never discriminated against having an audience. He can’t, though- not about this, not here. He doesn’t know _what_ to think, anyway, or even how to think it.

He knows Keith is his rival.

He knows Keith (probably) hates him.

He knows he thought for a very long time he hated Keith.

He knows he’ll never be seen as good as Keith, and he _does_ hate that.

He is always trying to prove how much he’s worth- to the team, to Keith, to _himself._ It never seems to be enough, not to anyone, but it is easier being spurred on by spite toward Keith and their rivalry than thinking Keith has any deeper feelings for him than annoyance or vague amusement. He tries not to think too hard about it most of the time, even though he knows it’s more out of habit now than anything to carry a grudge against Keith himself.

It’s harder to uphold that act when he thinks of Keith slumping against him, quiet in his trust; it’s even harder to believe Keith hates him, but he’s believed in that reality for so long he thought it might be the only absolute in the universe.

He doesn’t know how he feels about the boy who is the catalyst to so many of his insecurities trusting him with any measure of vulnerability; it gives him too much power while making him feel like Keith still has control over him somehow.

“Did you get lost?”

Lance doesn’t jump and he’s a little proud of that small victory. Keith had shifted to the floor, back against the chair and arms hanging off his bent knees, and there is a trace of curiosity behind an otherwise indecipherable stare. His entire body is now turned toward Lance, and well. Lance can’t help but feel trapped by that.

Even with body language, Keith always seems to have the advantage. Lance would find it infuriating if it isn’t for the openness of Keith’s posture; his muscles are loose in a way Lance can’t recall ever seeing, head resting against the chair lazily, a faint smirk playing at the edge of his lips that is more playful than malicious. It’s then that Lance remembers he doesn’t even _know_ what Keith means by the recent casual physicality; he’s only speculated, and his mouth goes dry at the thought of even asking what it all is supposed to mean. So, he doesn’t.

“I wasn’t the one found being a total space cadet in _actual space_.”

“Maybe,” if Lance didn’t know better, he’d swear he saw a faint blush across Keith’s cheeks before he replied petulantly, “but you _were_ just stalking the ship after hours.”

“One, I can’t _stalk_ my own home, loser-”

“Why?”

“Because it’s _my_ home too, what, do you think-” Lance is interrupted by Keith’s foot reaching out to knock against his knee in such a companionable way that his indignation dies on his lips.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I meant, why are you up too?” 

Lance wants to mutter about how that isn’t what Keith had _said_ but lets it drop at the way Keith’s eyes are too wide with sincere interest. Lance takes a minute to think of how to be honest without telling the truth before shrugging and giving as much authenticity he can muster.

“I can’t sleep, after missions. Can’t settle. It’s all too much, and I guess everything gets a little loud for me too.”

“What helps?”

Lance considers Keith, his posture slack but eyes sharp as he stares across the small space between them. He thinks back to the moment he was shocked out of his nervous energy by a drooping head and warm shoulder against his, calm in his surprise.

“I’m not sure yet.” It isn’t a lie. 

He doesn’t ask what helps Keith, because he doesn’t want the answer. Keith doesn’t seem to mind. 

He ignores the way Keith’s foot drops from pushing at his knee to being stretched out between them, socked toes casually pressed against his ankle. He ignores the way the easy touch sears against his skin, his pulse drumming from the contact. It’s just because it’s _new_ , okay. He’s not used to it from _Keith_. Once the novelty fades, he won’t react this way anymore, he’s sure of it.

Until then, he’ll just get really good at pretending he isn’t having trouble breathing at the thoughtless touches. It’s not like Keith is thinking much about it, so why should he let himself get so flustered? It’s just a damn foot, anyway.

Determined to gain a semblance of control again, Lance decides to mimic Keith’s pose, turning and stretching out his legs to take up just a _little_ too much room in an attempt to make Keith feel as overwhelmed as Lance has felt this entire damn night.  He leans back on his hands for balance, eyes almost narrowing toward Keith in a challenge.

Lance wants to scream when Keith just easily readjusts, crossing his legs so they just barely rest on top of Lance’s shins. He doesn’t seem bothered by it, gaze drowsy as he tilts his head toward the stars. Lance watches the long sweep of his neck angle to the side and needs a distraction.

“What do you miss most?”

He’s not sure if Keith is thinking or falling asleep, but the answer comes eventually. “My bike.”

Surprised, Lance thinks back to the getaway bike they had used when they first met; it was fine, but nothing compared to the soaring they could do in the lions. “Don’t you get enough flying in the lions?”

“It’s not the same.” Keith’s head rolls forward to face him, eyes soft from exhaustion. Dark hair falls between his eyes at the movement, and Lance briefly wonders if he ever gets it cut. Wonders how long he’ll let it grow. “It’s different, flying through the sky. It’s… Pure freedom.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“I didn’t say anything was wrong with it. It’s just… Different. My bike… It was as if I was defying all rules on Earth, moving so fast right above the ground. There are no rules in space.” He says it as if that explains everything, and Lance thinks maybe it somehow does.

Lance considers Keith, and Keith considers him back. He isn’t sure what they’re trying to find in each other, or if they find it. There’s a beat of that mechanical silence, filled with more than Lance can bring himself to comprehend.

“What about you?”

Lance doesn’t need time to think of this answer, since it’s on his mind more than he would like to admit. “It’s a little dumb, I guess. But, just… Everything.”

He watches as Keith’s eyes widen slightly, but otherwise doesn’t react. “Isn’t this what you always wanted, though? To be a hero, or whatever.”

“Well, duh. Doesn’t everyone want to be a hero?”

“I don’t know, I guess.”

“ ‘I guess’?” Lance snorts. “That’s funny, coming from the person who doesn’t even have to _try_ to be a hero, or _whatever_.”

“What? I _try_ ,” Keith starts, a little more life to him, spurred on by fresh indignation.

“Oh, so you _do_ try to be a hero, huh?” Lance’s grin betrays him, revealing just how much he really does enjoy teasing Keith. The calm is nice, but this? The easy banter, the pout he can incite from Keith when he’s totally _won_ , that’s what grounds him. It pulls all of the anxious energy out of his veins and exhales it out on a laugh at Keith’s narrowed eyes.

_This_ is what is real, not in-between moments of contact that leave Lance confused.

“You did that on purpose,” Keith grumbles, but there isn’t any bite to it.

“You caught me, genius. I totally did.” Lance knocks his foot into Keith’s thigh on a laugh, but it hollows out when Keith just presses down into the touch. That soft look is back, and Lance isn’t sure if it’s entirely exhaustion and he doesn’t know how to handle that.

“Well, buddy, you look like you’re about to keel over. You wanna go to bed?” Lance asks a little too quickly after staring for a _little_ too long, but he hopes Keith doesn’t notice.

Keith blinks at him with that dumb, soft expression of his before looking down and shrugging. “Yeah, sure, I guess."

Lance doesn’t think too much about the disappointment he hears in Keith’s voice.

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The smile that plays against Keith’s lips is faint yet comfortable, but Lance wouldn’t have even caught it if he wasn’t mapping the stars in every galaxy that stretched between Keith’s smile to his eyes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo! I hope everyone likes this chapter. This chapter contains a scene that was probably the hardest for me to write so far, and I really enjoyed the challenge of getting myself out of my comfort zone to write it. 
> 
> As always, a big thank you to my betas and friends Benni and Steph! 
> 
> If you wanna chat Voltron (or bnha tbh, it's been a recent Obsession) come check me out at lvnce-mcclain on tumblr!

* * *

  

 _make this our kingdom somewhere good love conquers and not divides_ \- surefire, john legend

 

* * *

 

Lance determines the Thing isn’t necessarily a _bad_ thing. At least, it’s not bad so long as he and Keith never talk about it. Ever. Period. So that’s what he does- he avoids ever talking about it, and accepts it as a Thing that exists now. It can stay between just them, and that’s fine with Lance.

“Why do you keep looking at Keith like that?” Hunk asks him, completely unassuming.

Lance sputters.

“What are you- I mean, what do you- just, _what?_  Keith, what, _no_.” Lance forces a laugh so hard he ends up choking. Hunk fixes him with a raised eyebrow.

“One, dude, none of that made _any_ sense. I need you to know that.” Lance slumps, nodding. “Two, it wasn’t an accusation so you know, you can turn your Freak Out knob down to like, three, maximum.”

Lance sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. His eyes flicker back up to follow where Keith is standing with Shiro, gathering information from the locals of this planet about the current political climate. It involves something about a monarch aligned with with the Galra Empire, a revolutionist heir to the throne, and a politically divided population- but honestly, Lance had been focused more on the way Keith’s shoulders tensed as he surveyed the area and how he had lingered when he brushed up against Lance as he passed by to pay too much attention.

“Yeah, okay, okay.” When he doesn't answer Hunk’s original question, honestly hoping he had forgotten about it already, the raised eyebrow intensifies.

“C’mon, man, I’m not gonna force you to talk about it. But whatever it is, you know I’m here for you.”

Lance groans, tearing his eyes away from Keith and rubbing at them viciously, as if to rub the entire past five weeks out of his memory. “I really don’t know, man. I wish I did.”

Hunk laughs in good nature, because everything Hunk does is in good nature. “Have you talked about it?” The Look Lance gives him answers that absolutely ridiculous question. “Alright, alright. Well, whatever it is, I like it. It’s nice to not have you two fighting as much.”

The heat of the planet’s two suns beats down and seeps below his paladin armor, but that isn’t what causes Lance to warm up. He knows he and Keith haven’t fought lately- well, at least not like they used to. There was less fire behind their taunts; it was less like a combustion waiting for the right spark and more of an easy flame licking between laughs and teases.

“Plus, I like that look on you.” Hunk says it so casually that Lance is convinced he knows exactly what he’s insinuating.

“What _look_? I have no look except my iconic Lance Look, patent pending, and I don’t appreciate you implying otherwise.”

“What are we implying?” Pidge’s voice makes Lance jump and he quickly makes an _abort abort abort_ gesture to Hunk over Pidge’s head.

“That Lance has a look for Keith.”

Lance groans, burying his face in the nearest tree and hoping the tree accepts him as one with nature and absorbs him immediately.

“Oh, that.”

“What do you mean, _oh that_? There is no _that_ to be _oh_ -ing about!” Lance points an indignant finger at Pidge, who shrugs as a few of the locals shoot curious glances toward them. Lance tries to save face by flashing a cheeky grin and a wink toward the group, but he’s pretty sure he only makes it worse.

“What are you getting so defensive about? It’s not that big of a deal.” Pidge yawns, as if accusing Lance of having a _look_ for _Keith_ was the most reasonable thing to be talking about.

“It’s not a _deal_ because it's not a _thing_!” He can feel the shrillness of his voice scratch against his throat and winces.

His denial is met with unconvinced, blank stares.

“Whatever, I don’t need you guys to believe me for it to be _true_.” Lance grumbles, stomping off to the sounds of _way too amused_ laughs from his teammates.

It _is_ true- he doesn’t have a _look_ for Keith. Yeah, he’ll admit he had been looking _at_ Keith a lot more lately but who wouldn’t be! He has _questions_ , okay, questions he doesn’t want to ask and definitely doesn’t want the answers to but he still _has_ them.

He’s on his way to mingle with some giggling and pointing locals to drown his sorrows when he catches Keith’s eye from across the lot and just about trips over his own feet. Keith raises an eyebrow at the way he catches himself as if he _meant_ to almost fall on his face, an amused glint behind those dark eyes. Lance glares at that amusement, which encourages an actual chuckle from Keith; Lance can’t hear it from so far away, but he can see the way it shakes his chest and crinkles his eyes, and suddenly Lance has never wanted to hear something so bad in his entire life.

Which is exactly what pushes him to turn in the opposite direction and nearly run away.

 

* * *

 

 All in all, ignoring the Thing seems to go pretty well. Keith doesn’t say anything to him about it, and Lance almost convinces himself none of it ever even happened.

Almost, except he keeps accidentally meeting Keith’s eyes (when he’s totally _not_ giving Keith a _look_ ) from across the room, at the dinner table, while the whole group is talking- _all the time, everywhere_ and it’s hard to convince himself something isn’t different. Maybe it’s the knock of his heart against his lungs every time he has to catch his breath again when their eyes meet. Maybe it’s the gentle amusement that’s always hiding in Keith’s stare that somehow feels more dangerous to Lance than anything they’ve faced since first finding Blue.

He finally decides he has to say something one day while the team are all gathered for some concoction with dessert-esque intentions, all a little wary but wanting to give it a try for Hunk’s earnest face.

Lance is wincing through the first bite of the cold- no hot- wait savory?- treat when it happens. Keith’s gaze captures his without even trying, trapping Lance’s butterfly heart to beat recklessly against his ribs. The smile that plays against Keith’s lips is faint yet comfortable, but Lance wouldn’t have even caught it if he wasn’t mapping the stars in every galaxy that stretched between Keith’s smile to his eyes.

And it’s all- it’s just all ridiculous, okay? The only reason he is getting so… _Enamored_ with Keith is because of the mystery. That had to be it. Once they talk about it and shake out whatever tangled up knots that had twisted between them recently they would be back to normal and Lance could stop being so fascinated with all the little looks he _doesn’t know the meaning of._

So he decides he needs to just _say something_ to Keith and finishes his almost-popsicle with an exaggerated flourish (for Hunk’s benefit, of course), and is about to ask Keith if he wants to take a walk when the alarms sound.

Lance groans, jumping up to follow everyone to the control room to see what tripped the security.

“Groans, my boy? You’ve never been one to turn away a fight!” Coran calls as he and Allura take the lead on everyone.

“And I never will be!” Lance sing-songs back to him in a way he didn’t really feel because no, he doesn’t want to turn away a fight- but he also had another battle he _just_ got the courage to face.

“You’re going to miss it if you don’t _hurry up_ though!” Keith teases him as he sprints past, running backwards just so Lance can see that taunting smirk of his. Lance narrows his eyes at the unspoken challenge, all his questions forgotten as he chases after Keith’s daring laugh.

“Just watch where you’re going!” Lance can hear Shiro’s plea behind him, followed by a defeated sigh.

By the time they all gather around the control center, Allura is already conferring with Coran and looking determined. They all skid in, any sense of playfulness dissipated at her expression.

“Paladins, there seems to be a distress call from the Eirid people on planet Sapion. They are reporting a Galran fleet incoming, assumed to be in response to rumors of a rebellion growing. We are going to send you down to feel out the situation and take action as necessary.”

“Sapion is a known trade planet. The Galra aren’t going to give it up without a fight.” Coran adds, a hint of worry in his voice.

Shiro nods, looking over the holographic files pulled up in front of Allura. “Well, neither will we. Alright, team, no time to lose!”

The descent to Blue is just as exhilarating as it always is, almost like a flight in itself; it’s the closest thing to magic Lance can imagine, the energy that calls to him from his lion as he races to her. It excites him and eases any fears at the same time, knowing there’s nothing he and Blue can’t face together.

Shiro’s voice in his ear is confident, laying out the plan as they get warped to location. “When we get there, we need to find this rebellion first. We’ll need to see what we can find out from locals; it's likely the rebels will be in hiding and they probably will not trust us immediately.”

“But who wouldn't trust strangers descending from outer space in giant metal lions?” Pidge quips over the communicator, causing a snicker from both Lance and Hunk. They crash through the planet’s atmosphere and Lance lets himself free fall for a moment before pulling up with a whooping holler.

Keith’s voice crackles in his ear, “Did you forget how to fly for a minute there, Lance?” The playful way his voice dances over Lance’s name shouldn’t stutter his heart the way it does, and Lance almost resents it.

“No, did you forget to have a little fun though?” Lance teases right back when he can work his throat again, shivering a little at the quiet chuckle he gets in return.

“Both of you _remember_ to stay en route,” Shiro chimes in, serious but not unkind in a way Lance is sure only Shiro can manage. “We’re not sure what we will be entering in here. Stay alert, all of you.”

They’re following the coordinates Allura sent them from the castle, but it’s pretty obvious which direction they’re headed towards as they get closer.

“Uh, Allura, I don’t think the rebellion is just a _rumor_ like we thought.” Shiro says calmly, all of the lions stopping short as they approach the city. The absolutely  _colossal city_ surrounded by makeshift walls and an impressive amount of what appears to be rebels, fighting off an imposing fleet of Galran soldiers. Lance can see where two Galran ships have already been grounded, smoke rising from the remains. It didn’t deal the kind of blow the rebels must have hoped for, however, because there were still a dozen ships close to the ground with weapons systems aimed at the city itself. “Are you reading my feed on this, Princess?”

“Yes, we’re seeing it. You have to intervene- it does not appear like this battle is leaning in favor of the rebellion.” Allura’s voice was sure, resonating within all of their lions.

“We’re on it. Hunk, provide cover to the ground troops. Pidge, you’re with me flanking the ships and distracting them from the city. Keith, Lance- I need you two to disable those weapons.”

“Aye aye, Captain,” Lance calls out as he takes after Keith, who has already targeted the closest enemy; there’s a delight that swoops low in his chest as he hunts down that red dash in the sky as fast as Blue can carry him.

“You think you can keep up to have my back, Lance?”

“Can’t keep an eye on your own back, Samurai? I guess I can cover you if you’re just not _capable_.” The warmth in his tease surprises even him, but he doesn’t take it back. He lets it settle in between the laugh he barks out at Keith’s scoff and trains his sights on the ships taking notice of Keith’s incoming drop. One ship opens up and pours out at least a couple dozen fighter jets, all focused on Red.

Lance falls back to target the swarm, expertly aiming Blue’s freeze ray at the jets as Keith dodges their pursuits. Lance hears Keith’s breathless laugh buzz in his ear as he watches Red bat away one of his assailants before landing on the side of the massive ship with a _thump_ Lance almost feels in his bones. Lance sees the ship’s cannon start to swing toward Red and immediately pulls Blue in that direction, landing on top of the cannon just as it locks onto Red and begins firing. He can feel the static in the atmosphere as he diverts the blast upwards, throwing Blue back to wrench it out of socket with her claws.

Using his perch on top of the ship to fire at the other ships’ weapon systems, Lance eyes Pidge and Shiro come up beside each of the neighboring ships and ram them together.

“Um, guys, I think we have a problem,” Hunk’s voice breaks through the victorious holler Lance lets out at the sight.

“What is it, Hunk?” Shiro’s answering call is quick, even while the black lion is grounding the smoking ships.

“I’ve let the leader of the rebellion board Yellow; I think she should explain.” Lance’s visuals cut as the image of the apparent leader takes over. He can just barely see past the image where Yellow is grounded near the entrance of the city, protecting what looks like a makeshift medical tent.

“Paladins of Voltron, I am Tunav. I’m sorry but I don’t have time for a proper thanks for your aid- one of those ships contains the children of our city as hostages. Please, help us- we have been unable to breach it to rescue them.” The adrenaline in Lance’s veins becomes sleet against his bones at the words; the ship rumbles under Blue’s claws but he barely notices.

“Do you know which ship it is?” Shiro asks, calm but urgent. Lance has to pull up from the ship he’s perched on as it tries to shudder to life, but Pidge is at his side in a moment to help keep it downed.

“Fourth ship on the western flank. We’ve tried breaking through, but each time the foot soldiers manage to keep us back.” Lance ends the visuals so he can trace the ship, finding it surrounded by not only foot soldiers but also crowded by three other ships; it is easy enough to spot with that caliber of extra security. “We have not been able to find blueprints on that particular ship to even find where they might be holding the children.” Her voice is calm and calculated but Lance can see the urgency and fear in her slightly-too-big eyes and lets that mark his resolve.

Lance eyes the distance and starts calculating how close he has to get before Blue’s freeze ray would reach. “Okay, Boss, what’s the-” he can’t even finish asking Shiro for the plan before he sees a red dash rushing toward the cluster.

The various shouts are deafening as everyone realizes where Keith is going. Lance sees Black race after him a split second before he’s urging Blue to chase him too, heart slamming against his chest at what stupid idea Keith has now.

“Keith! Fall back! This isn’t something you can just rush into!” Lance hears Shiro’s sharp command in his ear and winces as Red doesn’t even falter ahead of them.

“We can’t risk anything until we know where the hostages are located!” Keith’s voice is defiant and hard, sharp against the tension between them all.

A communication screen cuts in his view suddenly, Keith’s eyes filled with an unyielding resolve as he stares at Lance. “Lance- cover Red for me.” There’s half a second of silence between them while Lance’s eyes search Keith’s for a clue to what he is about to do before the screen cuts out as quick as it appeared.

“ _Keith_ , what are you-” Lance’s shout is cut off as he watches Red drop to the rear of the hull and then there's the sharp screech of metal on metal as claws tear out the side. He watches her move back just enough to widen her jaws and-

“Oh my god _that idiot_ ,” Lance snarls even as his heart rate spikes watching Keith’s form drop into the hole made by Red.

“Lance, I need you to follow him; he can’t go into unknown territory without backup. I’ll cover Red and Blue.” Shiro’s voice wavers with frustration and worry that mirrors Lance’s own.

“Already on it, Shiro.” Blue is already docking next to Red by the time Lance finishes his sentence, barely thinking as he dashes down the ramp of Blue’s jaws and diving toward the makeshift entrance into the Galran ship. The jets of his paladin suit ease his fall, letting him land mid-stride and take off in a run past fallen sentries.

“Keith, I’m on the ship and en route. Where are you?” Lance manages to get out between breaths, ducking behind a wall as a lone sentry runs past; he slides out as the footsteps pass him, aims his bayard and shoots. There’s a metallic clang as the sentry stumbles into the wall and crashes.

“I told you to watch Red, what happened to having my back?” Keith’s voice is breathless in his ear, the sounds of blasters in the background almost drowning him out.

“I’m _trying_ to have your back right now, you idiot. Now tell me where you’re at so I can actually do it!”

There’s a beat of metal against metal, clashing with the sound of Lance’s blood rushing in his ears, before Keith’s reply breaks through. “I’m headed toward the command center to find the schematics and where the kids are being held; I haven’t seen any sign of them yet. I think they must be toward the back of the ship.”

Lance can hear the unspoken request in Keith’s voice but wishes he didn’t. He stops at a junction between hallways; the left leading to a few downed sentries, a telltale sign of which way Keith went, the right seemingly leading deeper into the ship. The opposite direction as Keith. Lance bounces foot to foot, whining in frustration, before whipping to the right.

“I’m headed to the back; let me know as soon as you have a location.” Lance can hear the relieved exhale on the other end of his com before adding, “And Keith? Be careful.” 

“Only as careful as you’ll be.”

Lance huffs out a laugh at the smirk he can hear edging against the words, feet pounding down the hall as he checks any area that could be even slightly construed as a prison. The silence in the following minutes is tense, riding up Lance’s spine and inching across his shoulders as he trains his bayard ahead of him.  

He turns a corner too fast, immediately having to roll to dodge a blast from a group of oncoming sentries. His shoulder crashes against the ground but he ignores the sharp crack of pain to leverage his shoulder under him to shoot, blasts finding their targets after only a couple of blind shots; there’s an eerie hiss from the hot metal of the sentries as the crumble to the ground, Lance letting out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding.

Lance’s nerves are taut with anticipation afterwards, almost breaking apart when Keith’s voice jolts him upright again. “Okay, I’ve taken the command. Pidge is walking me through how to access the ship’s database now; just hold for a few more seconds, Lance.”

“Oh sure, I got all the time in the world, Buddy. Don’t worry about Ol’ Lance.” Lance tries to not let his impatience seep through his tone while he shrugs his shoulder to make sure he still can, wincing on the downward rotation.

“Got it! I’m sending the location to you and the rest of the team now.”

The holographic map pops up on his wrist a second later and Lance sighs with relief; he’s not far from the kids and from what he can tell, it should be an easy extraction from outside the ship.

“Heading there now, estimation 6 minutes.”

“Copy that. Shiro, what’s the extraction plan? I am on my way to Lance for backup.”

Lance holds his scoff back, but can’t help the _now he asks what to do_ that fleets through his mind as he runs. He draws closer to the location on the map, muscles taut from exertion and preparation for the guards more than likely in place around the hostages.

“Keith, I need you to get back to Red. There’s too many ships to fight off to protect both Red and Blue. I’ll need you to then extract Lance and the hostages. Lance, that means you’ll  be on your own for clearing a path for the kids- can you do this?”

Lance’s footsteps soften as he nears the final corner, controlling his breathing as he braves a peak around the wall. Four sentries. “Hell yeah, Boss.”

Lance can hear Pidge’s begrudging huff of a laugh in his ear as he slides out of hiding, bayard at the ready. He manages to take down three sentries before it gets shot out of his hand, the heat of the blast nearly burning the skin beneath his armor. Lance doesn’t allow it to throw off his momentum, instead charging the sentry that fired on him ducking low to hit its center. The tackle hits his shoulder in just the wrong way, still throbbing from his earlier fall, that Lance holds back a yelp as he takes the robot to the ground. He scrambles for the guard’s gun in the tussle, managing to grab it and bring the butt down on the head of the bot before it can react.

His chest is heaving by the time he stands and retrieves his bayard, surveying for any signs of backup before turning to what must be the cell the children are being held in. “Pidge, can you see this reader? Any ideas on getting into the room?”

Lance hears the sounds of blasts come through Pidge’s side of the communicator and winces. “Looks like you’ll need to hook up to it and give me a minute.” Lance does as she says, sweat rolling uncomfortably down his suit as he watches the end of the corridor for enemies. He tries to listen for footsteps but his heartbeat is like footfalls to his own ears. “There! Now hurry- they are _not_ happy with our little intrusion out here.”

The door opens with a _whoosh_ but it’s drowned out by the terrified gasps at the sudden movement, Lance’s heart breaking a little bit more for the children huddled in the corner of the dark room. Tiny eyes drag toward Lance and he gives the most reassuring smile he can muster. “Don’t worry kids, Voltron’s here now. You’re safe with me. Keith, I have the kids. Extraction would be great any time now.”

“Working on it- give me two minutes.”

The kids are hesitant to move at first but once one moves towards him they’re all rushing him, trying to grab hold of him or each other in a surge of relief and tentative hope. “Is this everyone? Are there more of you? Is anyone hurt?” Lance asks, voice soothing but strong in the way he used to calm his nieces and nephews during storms.

One of the taller children speaks up quietly, “This is all of us. Most of us are okay- everyone can move, at least.”

“Alright. Listen up everyone, there’s going to be a bit of a commotion here in a second when Keith comes to get us but don’t worry- just follow me and use the buddy system.” There’s a loud rumble right on cue as Lance can only assume Red has torn open a new makeshift exit somewhere close by.

“Alrighty, let’s go kiddos- hold hands and hold tight, we’re almost out of here.” Lance leads them out of the room and down the corridor to where he hears wind howling across the opening in the hull, a giant muzzle stuffed in it like a cork. The tightness in his chest finally eases when Keith comes into view, jumping off Red’s jaw and rushing towards the group.

“Is anyone injured?” is his first question, eyes immediately finding the way Lance’s arm is held stiffly to his side. Eyes still flickering to Lance, Keith starts ushering the kids into Red; some kids hesitate at the giant muzzle looming before them and need gentle encouragement, Keith’s voice low while he quickly guides them. Lance’s heart does something he doesn’t agree with in his chest at the sight.

“No serious injuries. I think they’re mostly just shaken,” Lance replies when he can finally find his voice,  assisting the smaller kids up and into the ship and silently counting all of them. Thirty seven- thirty eight- thirty-

“No doubt. I just… I couldn’t let them stay here any longer than necessary.” Keith looks almost ashamed, but Lance knows better- knows he may be ashamed of disobeying Shiro, but he would do it again in a heartbeat if it meant doing what he thought was the right thing.

“I know.”

Lance hoists the last child up onto the ship as they both follow them deeper inside. There’s still more to do now, even after rescuing the kids, but Lance can’t help but feel calmer with them in his sights. He stays with them as Keith turns to run back to Red’s controls and he thinks he sees Keith falter for just a moment before he hears the whisper of a “thank you” over his communicator. He knows it was just for him, and he doesn’t have to ask what it was for.

Lance watches Keith go with something thick stuck in his chest at the sight, tiny hands pulling him towards the huddled group of children held together by worried chatter and grasping fingers.

 

* * *

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You still followed me.” 
> 
> “I did.” 
> 
> “Why?” 
> 
> “Because,” _because I’m afraid at this point I might follow you anywhere_ , “you’re my friend.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I am definitely posting this chapter before I originally planned to, mainly because I keep adding to is since I have absolutely no self control. As is, this chapter accidentally grew to around 7200 words so uh. I hope people actually enjoy it haha. 
> 
> As always, a big thank you to [Benni](http://keithkohgane.tumblr.com/) and [Steph](http://fastfallingstar.tumblr.com/) who helped this story come alive. 
> 
> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy it!

* * *

 

 _the world is a nightmare wake up and stay here, let me be on your side_ \- surefire, john legend

 

* * *

 

Shiro dismisses everyone from the docking bay as soon as all the lions land. There’s a calmness to his voice but a hard set to his jaw as Lance passes him, which is more than enough to get everyone hurrying out of the room as soon as they can. They all know he wants to talk to Keith alone, _especially_ Keith; Lance can tell his shoulders are bunched with anticipation, eyes downcast and dark.

Lance wants to be angry. He wants to reinforce how _stupid_ of a move that was. He wants to let Keith know how irresponsible his cocky act first, deal later attitude is now that they’re all back and safe. He wants, he wants, he wants- but he _can’t_ . Not only because Shiro’s silent demand for privacy but because that small _thank you_ keeps ricocheting somewhere between his ears and his heart, leaving splinters of bone lodged against his throat. The words he wants to say can’t come out without hurting, not while that small gratitude bounces around inside him.

So instead Lance huffs and may or may not be going to sulk in his bedroom when Hunk stops him with a gentle hand on his elbow. “Do you think you need to get that arm of yours checked out by Coran?” His eyes are amiable and gentle, melting away most of Lance’s annoyance. Most, but not all.

Lance blinks at him after registering the question, having mostly forgotten about his stiff shoulder and almost-singed hand. “Oh, nah. They did a pretty good job at that makeshift medical tent back on Sapion. I don’t know what was in that cream, but my hand feels just fine now.”

“That’s good at least. You’ll have to rest your shoulder for a while though, it still looks pretty stiff. I was worried about you two out on that ship.”

“Well, you wouldn’t have had to worry if it wasn’t for our resident hothead.” Lance scuffs the toe of his armor on the ground at the sneer of words, turning and starting to head back to his room to change.

There’s a beat of silence while Hunk stares after him before there’s footsteps and laughter following him. “Oh, man, we were wondering when the honeymoon phase would end.”

Lance’s eyes narrow, whipping to face his best friend. “Honeymoon phase? What the hell, man?”

“You know, you and Keith.”

“But why _honeymoon phase_?”

“You know why.” A cheeky grin plays at the corners of Hunk’s mouth, and Lance would be proud of the look if the reason behind it didn’t absolutely grate against his last actual nerve.

“No, I _don’t_ know why. I don’t know anything! And I’m tired of it!” The outburst leaves his tongue stinging with regret as soon as the words scrape against it on the way out, but he’s still so annoyed at… At just _everything_ that he lets them hang in the air between them.

“Woah, dude. Hey- c’mon, man look at me.” Lance drags his eyes from the spot where he had stopped walking, regret intensifying at the compassionate look on his best friend’s face. “What’s going on? I thought you seemed happier recently.”

Lance searches Hunk’s stare for a moment before sighing and starting for their rooms again. “I have been, I think. I don’t know man. It’s all so mixed up lately.”

“Want to talk about it?” The question isn’t pressing, so Lance mulls it over for several paces. Did he want to talk about it? Talking about it makes it seem so _real_ and he isn’t sure how ready he is for that. But… he feels like maybe this is the type of thing that will end up becoming real whether he’s ready for it or not.

“Yeah. Yeah, I think I do.” The words come out on a resigned exhale and Lance can’t even look at Hunk when he admits it.

“Alright, buddy. Well, why don’t we get cleaned up and maybe meet down in the kitchen in about an hour? I can make you goo-brownies and you can pretend they’re almost as good as regular brownies.”

“Aw, bro, you know they’re just as good in my heart.” Hunk scoffs at him and waves him off, heading down the hall while Lance stops at his own room. His eyes flicker to Keith’s door with a twinge of… of _something_ before he smashes the button to open his door a little harder than necessary.

The warm water from the shower is the most amazing thing he’s ever felt after peeling off his sweaty undershirt from his damp skin. The heat soaks into his sore shoulder slowly but deeply, loosening the aching muscles minute by minute as he stands there. He tries to let the water wash all of the thoughts out of his head as well but Lance starts to think there’s not enough water in the castle for that sort of task.

Yeah, he’s more than irritated at Keith and yeah he would like nothing more than to let him know _exactly_ what he thinks about that little stunt back on Sapion- but he’s even more irritated at the fact being mad at Keith feels just a little _wrong_ now. Not only that, but he’s mad at _himself_ for actually understanding where Keith was coming from and the fact he isn’t actually sure if he would hesitate if Keith asked him to follow him again. The revelation is a little more than disconcerting, leaving Lance feeling way too much and Lance. Lance just really needs a nap or something because it’s all too much to deal with- or at least, too much to deal with on his own.

When he finally pads into the kitchen with his favorite robe and most soothing face mask on, Hunk is already working on preparing the not-brownies. They definitely _are not_ brownies because for one, they weren’t even brown and two, they tasted nothing like chocolate but in the end they were gooey and warm and sometimes that has to be enough.

Hunk hums some off-tune song Lance has heard him sing before while Lance quietly hops up on the counter beside him. Hunk doesn’t push for him to start talking, and that’s something Lance has always appreciated about him- the patience of a saint. There’s something familiar and calming about the way Hunk moves through the kitchen, so settled into his environment that Lance can feel that stability seep into his own uncertainties and it gives him the motivation to eventually speak.

“I think I might like Keith.”

“Well, duh.”

Lance gapes at Hunk’s back, eyes narrowing petulantly when he doesn’t get any more elaboration. “Don’t _duh_ me, man, this is Big. Like, Big Big. Monumentally big.”

Hunk snorts, whisking some sort of solidifying agent into the goo at the speed of a god. “Oh, my bad. How about _no duh_ then.”

“You’re the worst, I hope you know that.”

“No, I’m not,” Hunk hums calmly and Lance pouts.

“No, you’re not and that’s what makes you the worst.”

“Listen, I’m just saying- I know you. I also know that look on your face you’ve had when looking at Keith. I’m honestly just surprised you’re admitting it that easily, man. I figured I was going to have to pry that admission out of you over the next ten years.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not _that_ emotionally ignorant to not know what I’m feeling, okay.” Lance grumbles, watching his feet knock against the cabinets to avoid looking at Hunk’s grinning face. “It’s just… I don’t know what it all means, you know? So sure, I have a crush on him. Well what am I supposed to do about it? Do I only have a crush on him because he’s suddenly gotten so physical with me? Does it even mean-”

“Woah, woah, woah. Hold up. Rewind. Gotten physical with you? _Dude_. What’s been going on between you two? Spill.” Hunk nearly splatters goo all over them both as he points the whisk accusingly towards Lance, who holds his hands up in surrender.

Lance somehow manages to relay all of the instances from the last several weeks in a completely and totally calm, factual manner without any lapses into freaking out territory. Hunk just nods along, his hand rubbing his chin as he thinks about everything Lance just unloaded.

“Well, after hearing all of that I conclude… That I don’t really know man.”

“See! See, I told you. It’s just all really confusing.” A little flare of righteous indignation warms Lance’s chest, fueling the smirk curling his lips at the win.

“I mean, yeah. Hmmm. Let me think about this.”

Lance waves him on with the whisk he commandeered during the recollection of his plight, focusing most of his attention on licking the not-brownie batter off the utensil while Hunk smooths out the batter in a pan and carefully loads it into the oven. He wipes down the counter and makes quick work of the dishes, a thoughtful look on his face all the while.

“Okay, I think I got it.” Hunk slaps the towel he was using to dry the last dish against his shoulder, turning to face Lance with a triumphant smile and Lance totally wants to believe in that smile. “Okay, so, we know Keith isn’t the best at making friends.”

Lance can’t stop the snort he lets out; well, to be fair, he doesn’t even try to stop it but still. “That’s an understatement.”

Hunk rolls his eyes, continuing like Lance never said anything which _rude_. “Maybe this has been his way of trying to make friends with you? Like, dude, you’re not exactly the most subtle about your tendency toward physical affection. If I were trying to be friends with you, that’s definitely how I would start. We also know Keith’s not great about talking about things, so he probably isn’t going to make it obvious that’s what he’s trying to do, right?”

Lance stares, a little dumbfounded at such a simple explanation that makes _so much sense oh my god_. “Okay, fair. But what should I do about my crush? Oh my god I hate saying it like that.” Lance almost drags his hand down his face in embarrassment but stops just short, remembering his face mask.

“What about it? It’s just a crush, dude, it’s pretty innocent. Crushes don’t have to mean something unless you want them to mean something. _Do_ you want it to mean something?”

“ _I don’t know_ man. Maybe? How am I supposed to even know?”

Hunk laughs jovially, knocking his shoulder against Lance’s gently as he leans against the counter next to him. “I mean, have you tried getting to know him any more than you did before all this started happening?”

“... No.”

“Well, there you go. Why don’t you try being his _actual friend_ first? Then you can see if you want it to go anywhere from there.”

“Hunk, you’re a _genius_.”

“I try, I try.”

 

* * *

 

Lance leaves the kitchen feeling at least 86% more confident about life than he did before he went in, so he counts it as a win while walking back to his room. He considers going to see if he can find Keith somewhere around the castle but decides against it- after whatever Shiro had to say to him, Lance would bet cleaning duty for a month that Keith was blowing off steam on the training deck. And if anything, Lance knows that a Keith on the training deck is usually a Keith wanting to be left alone.

He rounds the last corner to the bedrooms and his knees lock at the sight of Keith coming out of his own room, the sudden loss of proper joint function nearly sending him tumbling to the ground. He catches himself on the side of the wall and _damn_ \- that’s twice now Keith has caught him tripping over himself at seeing him.

Keith is watching him with something close to amusement but it’s overshadowed by a dark edge around his eyes. “Forget how to walk, Lance?” His voice is a little rough, like it’s clawing its way out of his throat, and Lance winces; he can’t imagine the kind of blow up that must have happened down on the loading dock to have caused that.

Lance doesn’t know how to answer without admitting anything embarrassing; instead, his eyes catch on the towel and water bottle in Keith’s hands and tilts his chin in that direction. “Training deck?”  

Keith nods, eyeing the wary distance between them with a calculated look for a beat too long. Whatever he finds must add up, though, because when he looks back at Lance his gaze is like iron. “Want to join?”

Lance thinks of his aching arm and sore legs and muscles spent from exertion. He thinks of the rigid set of Keith’s shoulders and Hunk’s words. He thinks of what it must mean if Keith is _asking_ for company.

“Yeah, okay. Let me change.”

 

* * *

 

Lance isn’t sure if he should be worried at the way Keith’s hits seem to land a little too hard or how the time between his moves is a little too short, so he ignores it in favor of how _actually enjoyable_ training alongside Keith really is. They don’t know each other’s movement patterns well enough to really work in complete synchronicity but they still work _well_ ; there’s a delicate cadence flowing between them with every twist and dodge and blow that leaves Lance breathless and grinning.

There’s only so much his shoulder can take before he has to tap out though, and after some time he’s flopping on the ground outside the simulation area with a solid _oomph_ and an embarrassing amount of panting. He eyes Keith’s water bottle next to him with a prick of regret- he really should have brought one of his own. He considers the bottle for a moment, glancing once at Keith still going hard against the simulation bots, before shrugging with a silent _screw it_ and nabbing it for a drink.

He lets the bottle hang between his legs afterward, swinging it idly while propping his chin on his arms where they lay against his bent knees. Keith doesn’t seem to be tiring out, face grim and determined now that he’s cranked up the level intensity with only him on the floor. Lance allows himself a few minutes unabashed appreciation of the way Keith moves with ease, pure momentum throwing him from one maneuver and into the next like it is as easy as breathing.

And, well- Lance wonders if it actually _is_ that easy for Keith. Keith, who seemed to have so much natural talent that Lance still sometimes has to choke down the acrid reflex of jealousy. Keith, who is so good at so many things yet is still so _human_ \- he is flawed, he makes mistakes, he gets lost in the rooms of the castle when he can’t sleep. Lance still has to remind himself of these things when watching Keith move so effortlessly.

Keith finally ends the simulation and Lance watches as he stares at where the last bot had been, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths and the hair at his nape curling with sweat. Lance wonders if it’s soft when it’s damp like it is now.

When Keith collapses next to him his eyes are closed, hand blindly feeling around for his water bottle before peeking through the corner of his lashes at where Lance waves the bottle at him. Keith just closes his eyes again and reaches his hand out for it. Lance hands it over and watches as he drinks silently, trying to not think about how the ease of interaction between them or the soft puffs of air Keith keeps letting out while catching his breath.

Lance tries to channel Hunk and wait for Keith to talk first but he’s never been as good of a person as Hunk. “What happened?”

“Shiro didn’t think I should have done what I did. I disagreed.”

“Well, duh. You know what I meant,” Lance huffs and knocks his hand against Keith’s leg where it’s stretched out next to him.

Keith’s eyes are still closed when he frowns, fingers tapping a chaotic beat against the metal of his bottle resting on his stomach. Lance tries to not stare. He really, really tries. “We saved those kids.”

“I know.”

“I know I shouldn’t have done it the way I did it, but I don’t regret doing it at all.”

“I know.”

Keith opens his eyes at that, watching Lance through hooded lids and Lance watches him right back. “What do you think about it?”

Lance shifts, fiddling with the cuff of his sweatpants. “I think it was really impulsive. I think you put yourself in danger without thinking about the repercussions. I think that if something had happened to those kids because of your decision, you wouldn’t have known how to live with it.”

Keith swallows hard and finally breaks eye contact, eyes hard as he stares at the ceiling. His voice rattles when he finally speaks after minutes of just breathing. “You still followed me.”

“I did.”

“Why?”

“Because,” _because I’m afraid at this point I might follow you anywhere_ , “you’re my friend.”

“Oh.” The word comes out on an exhale, Keith’s eyes widening for a millisecond before he composes his expression again. His feet shift against the ground, fingers deftly twisting and untwisting the cap to his water bottle. “You’re my friend too.”

Lance grins, heart slamming into his throat at the small smile Keith finally gives him. “I know that too.”

Keith huffs out a laugh and pushes himself up to lean back on his forearms. “You do, do you?”

“Uh huh. Totally. I mean, it was only a matter of time before you realized just how awesome I am and gave up ever trying to be cooler than me and just accept being graced by my presence instead.”

“Yeah, whatever helps you sleep.” Keith rolls his eyes but that smile is still at the edge of his lips.

Lance’s grin softens before fading away. “Seriously, though… You can’t keep being impulsive like that, man. None of us are going to let you rush into those situations without backup, you know.”

Keith’s eyes flicker up to Lance before finding an interesting spot on the ground and a scowl finds it way to the corner of his mouth. Lance watches as his bangs fall in his face and his fingers twitch to push them out of the way. “I did say thank you.” There’s a sullen edge to the reply and Lance almost laughs.

“Yeah, you did. That’s not what I was getting at though.”

“Well, what _are_ you getting at then?”

“I’m just saying, we’re not going to let you go in alone. So when you’re doing all these reckless things, if you won’t watch out for your own safety at least try to remember we’re going to be going in right after you so it’s not just you in danger.”

Keith, at least, has the sense to look at least a _little_ ashamed at that. Lance knows he still doesn’t regret what he did, but that’s okay. Lance can’t fully bring himself to regret the means with the end that they found, either. There’s a few beats of heavy silence between them and Lance doesn’t say anything else, knowing he’s made his point.

“... I’ll try to remember that.”

“That’s all I can ask, I guess.” Lance laughs a bit, shaking his head and letting it roll over to rest on his shoulder, wincing somewhat when the movement sparks something through his neck and down into his shoulder blade. Keith’s eyes fly to his shoulder at the reaction, a trace of guilt flashing across his face.

Keith coughs quietly, clearing his throat, before adding quietly, “I’m sorry about your shoulder.”

“Eh, s'okay. It was for a good cause,” Lance attempts the joke, but it doesn’t do much to lift the guilt out of Keith’s stare so he sighs, standing up and dusting off his sweatpants. “Just between us… I don’t regret it either. Those kids are safe because of us. I couldn’t regret that.” He holds his good hand out to Keith.

Keith blinks at his hand for a second before taking it, that soft smile back. “I know that.”

 

* * *

 

And then it’s easier between them, Lance thinks. There isn’t as much confusion clouding Lance’s every thought, aren’t any questions that really keep Lance up at night. Keith is trying to be his friend, and Lance has a crush on him. It’s as simple as that. And it’s okay that way-  Lance can deal with it because it’s not unknown to him. No, he’s very familiar with wanting something just a _little_ too far out of reach, so he can deal with this.

Plus, he’s a hella good friend so he’s going to friend the _shit_ out of Keith.

 

* * *

 

They’re on a diplomatic visit to an allied planet in the Sucrex system, dropping off medical supplies and other needed items that keep being intercepted by Galran ships. The small but sturdy rebel alliance hidden away in the planet’s deep mountains reminds Lance that it isn’t always rough and tough rebel fighters found within the alliances- no, the small reptilian faces of children crack through him like a slap to the face.

The reminder may be a resounding shock to his system, but his heart settles at the fact that the children seem _hopeful_. They giggle and hide when all of the Paladins pass by them with arms stacked high with boxes of supplies. Lance grins at them as he passes, a group of kids eyeing him with shy smiles before giggling and running off.

“Our children have been the most excited about your arrival, Paladins of Voltron. It is not often ones so young get to meet the heart of a legend.” The leader- _Vozzirs_ , Lance thinks- gives them a smile that’s more teeth than he’s used to but it’s friendly nonetheless.

“It is very heartening to see such smiles on the faces of your children, Vozzirs.” Allura beams at the tiny scuffle of claws against rock as the last of the kids run to hide behind stalls. Lance grins too, also at the fact he _totally nailed_ remembering the leader’s name. _Booyah._

“We try to keep them protected from the harshness of this war without barring them entirely from reality. Hopefully, soon, we won’t have a need.”

“That is a very noble effort.” Allura’s tone is polite but Lance knows she means it, her eyes soft as they pass where the kids had scurried off to.

“Noble, I’m not so sure. Isn’t this why we fight? The hope that while we may not enjoy the end of this war, our children will prosper in a time it does not loom over them.”

“Don’t lose hope that you won’t be able to enjoy the spoils of your valiant efforts, Captain! Every day, Team Voltron comes a day closer to defeating Zarkon’s Empire!” Coran’s chipper voice cuts as he drops his five boxes on the supply table easily, the landing causing puffs of sand to blow out around them. Pidge huffs as they have to wipe sand off their glasses after putting down their two boxes.

Vozzirs lets out a hearty chuckle at Coran’s confidence, leaning against the stack they just set down. “Well, now isn’t that a thought to keep one going. Speaking of keeping things going, how are the efforts in this system looking? We try to communicate with our neighboring planets but radio interference and tapping is always a concern.”

“Oh, excellent! I think I actually have a map with me regarding the allied planets if you want to take a peek?” Coran searches his pockets with an excited hoot of triumph when he finds the holo-disk with the map.

“Captain, if you don’t mind, why don’t you, Coran, and I go over some communication strategies while the paladins perhaps go make a more _personable_ appearance with your people?” Shiro suggests, eyeing the way a couple of kids keep trying to peek in the tent to see.

Vozzirs follows his line of sight and laughs, “Yes, it seems if they don’t then we may have a small army come invade us soon. I think that’s reasonable enough. Paladins, you are welcome to explore our camp as you wish.” They somehow manage to keep the interest off their faces at the prospect of _not_ having to sit through another strategy meeting until they make it out of the tent. Even Keith seems to be slightly relieved.

Lance decides the _best_ way to spend the free time they’re given is by giving his legs a little _stretch_ while also maybe dazzling the local youth a little bit.

“Hey, Hunk, buddy- you wanna teach these rascals a little _soccer_?”

Hunk laughs and Keith’s head turns toward them a little bit with a look of interest. “Sure, man. But don’t be getting all competitive, okay, I know you’re the _reigning champ_ and all but let’s just have fun.”

“Reigning champ, huh?” Keith’s smirk is something that wedges between Lance’s ribs, making his heart race from both combative excitement and a little bit of _want_.

“You bet, mullet,” Lance lets the _t_ click against his teeth, a fond grin forming on his lips before he can even stop it. Keith’s smirk turns wicked, a challenge in his eyes that Lanc-

“ _Nope_. Nope! You two are not going to do this, we are going to have _fun_ and this will not turn into a grudge match between you two,” Hunk interjects, pointing the ball one of the kids found for him at both Keith and Lance in turn. His other arm is busy holding up one of the children, tail wound around his bicep and hanging like it’s nothing, and Lance busts out laughing as the competitive tension diffuses.

“Oh, buddy, this _is_ going to be fun.”

And it _is_. It’s so easy to just let things _be_ when it’s Lance and Keith and Hunk explaining the rules to kids with wide eyes and excited whispers and bouncing feet. Even Allura wanders over after hearing the fuss all the way back at the tent and decides to join in, a reserved but competitive gleam in her eyes. He grins when they all split into two teams, the kids breaking off with warrior yells to rival their parents’, with Lance and Hunk as team captains since Hunk does not trust Lance and Keith to be on opposite teams _at all_.

“Okay, guys, Allura is on goal so we gotta be careful okay? Our princess is very quick and we are here to _take her down_ , you got that?” Lance says conspiratorially in their team huddle.

“Paladin Lance?” One of the kids, I’ma, raises their hand. “Is that considered treason?”

Lance blinks at the completely serious stare, then looks across their head to see Keith doing the same exact thing, before choking out a laugh. “No, no it’s not. Don’t worry kids, no one will be put in space jail for getting the ball past the princess.”

Lance sees tension fall from I’ma’s small shoulders and smiles as the rest of the kids giggles. He runs through a quick play idea before telling them he’ll take goalie when previously-silent Keith shoots him a wide-eyed look.

“Uh, Lance? Can I talk to you for a second?”

“That’s _Captain_ Lance to you, Keith.”

Keith rolls his eyes and grabs Lance by the upper arm to pull him a few feet away. They had all shed most of their paladin armor for the game, and Lance tries to ignore the way he can feel every flex of Keith’s fingers against his arm.

“You should be on the field with the kids, I’ll take goalie.” Keith says in a short whisper, eyeing the kids like they’re going to either jump him or make fun of his hairstyle. Which, honestly, _fair_.

“Are you scared of preteen lizard children, Keith?” Lance teases, humor lighting his tone at the way Keith doesn’t look him in the eye and almost _blushes_.

“ _No_ , just. You’re better with kids than I am.” Keith’s reply is practically a mumble, and Lance absolutely _beams_ at the admission he’s _better_ at something from Keith’s own mouth. He almost wants to give in just out of pride alone, but it’s the thought of _Keith_ of all people interacting with space-children that makes him shake his head.

“Nah man, you’ll do fine. I know you will. Now, c’mon! We got some tail to whoop!” He wraps an arm around Keith’s shoulder and hauls him back, raising his voice on the last bit to the symphony of tiny war cries as the game begins. Pidge lounges on the ground at the edge of their makeshift field and lets out a half-hearted _go team_ in between tinkering with the radio Shiro dropped off with them while they were huddled.

Lance decides that goalie is, in fact, his favorite position for this game because he gets to watch the _utterly adorable_ match while still getting to heckle Keith, who tries to claim some _we’re on the same team Lance_ nonsense like that’s supposed to stop him. Little I’ma quickly becomes his favorite with her nimble feet and determined eyes, with Triid coming in close to a tie because they always snicker when Lance yells out with every caught ball. He does let a few slip through though, not wanting to be _too_ hard on the kids.

Which, if he’s being honest, isn’t the _entire_ reason why one or two get past him- he may or may not have been a little distracted at watching the awkward but gentle way Keith stops running a couple of times to help position one of the kids right to kick the ball or help one up who tripped over their own tail in their excitement. The images warm his skin and soften his stare, and only Triid’s _Captain Lance to your left!_ eventually breaks him out of his stupor.

 

* * *

 

In the end, Hunk’s team wins two games out of three and it’s the first time in a while that Lance has seen everyone on his team so genuinely happy and worn out from something that _wasn’t_ trying to kill them. By the time they leave to go back to the castle, the kids are surrounding all of them with excited pleas that they have to visit again as soon as possible to see how much they all have improved by then. Triid is hugging Lance and his heart melts, and then is set on fire at watching Ellqua hug and thank Keith for helping them during the game.

“Lance, that was a positively excellent idea, my boy! What a game! Reminds me of the game we used to play back on Altea, except with less pits of fire.” Coran claps him on the back when they all begin to part ways on after returning to the castle.

“Yes, Lance, I have to agree. I quite liked this _soccer_ ,” Allura chimes in.

“Aw, Allura, you’re only saying that because you became the Goalie Queen,” Lance pouts while Hunk high fives Allura.

“Well, that is fitting for our princess I suppose.” Shiro laughs at the put-out look on Lance’s face, ruffling his hair a bit on his way out of the room.

“I wouldn’t have let you win if I’d known you were such _sore winners_ , you know!” Lance calls to their retreating backs, huffing at their laughter.

“Let them win, huh?” Keith’s quiet tease sneaks its way up his spine and Lance has to force the heat from his cheeks before looking to see Keith leaning against the wall to the control room, arms crossed and appearing way too aloof for someone who just managed to keep up with twenty lizard children for almost three hours straight.

Lance shrugs and shoves his hands in his jacket, “Well, you know. Didn’t want the princess to get disheartened with her first game by losing.”

“What about her second game?” The mischief hiding in the corner of Keith’s smirk is too much for Lance to bear, so he walks past him out the door and tries to stifle the way his smile falls into place at the way Keith follows him without hesitation.

“Pfff. It was beginner’s luck, obviously. And what about you, huh?”

“What about me?” Out of the corner of his eye, Lance sees the way Keith turns towards him with an eyebrow raised but Lance refuses to look at him.

“Mmm, don’t play dumb. You were actually on the field, what happened out there big guy?” Lance tries to not think about _exactly_ what happened, which was Keith stopping every five minutes to help one of the kids with something or another.

Keith doesn’t comment, instead looking resolutely at the wall in beside him as they stop in front of their doors. “Well, it’s not like I was gonna try to beat a bunch of little kids,” he finally lets out and Lance holds back his grin at the almost-pout going on with Keith’s face.

“I’m sure that’s all it was, buddy,” Lance says with a mock-pat to Keith’s shoulder. Keith looks at the hand laid on his shoulder and then to Lance, and they both stare for a second too long before Lance shoves his hand back into his pocket.

“Well-”

“We should-”

The both start at the same time, before laughing a little. Lance rubs at the back of his neck nervously, before starting again. “I guess we should probably go to bed.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

Lance nods and backs away toward his door, eyes lingering on Keith’s just a little too long. He tells himself it’s okay, though, since Keith hasn’t looked away either. Before he turns to go into his room, he blurts out, “You did really good today, by the way.”

Keith blinks, looking a little confused, before rolling his eyes and huffing out, “We _lost_ , Lance.”

“No, I mean. You said you weren’t as good with kids as I am. And well, duh, because I’m still the best, but. But you were still better than you think.” Keith looks startled before it turns into a dumb, soft look that Lance can’t handle directed at him so he charges on, “And anyway, I just thought you should know. So I guess, uh, we should-”

“Wait, Lance-” Keith takes a step forward and Lance freezes. “Um. I just.”

Lance waits, hand hovering over the button to open his door and palms sweating just a little bit. He waits for Keith to finish his sentence, but he watches as Keith’s mouth hangs just open before closing after a long few seconds, like he doesn’t know how to get the words to form. His eyes flick to Lance’s door and then to the ground quickly. Hunk’s advice flashes through his mind for a second before Lance blurts out-

“Do you want to come in?” His heart beats just a little too loudly in his ears because c’mon, it’s fine, it’s just hanging out, it’s _not a big deal_. Keith’s nod makes him want to sag with relief, though, and the silent affirmation releases the tension in his shoulders.

Keith is a little stiff following him into his room and Lance realizes this is the first time Keith has actually been in here. He starts to feel just a little self conscious about everything he’s collected from the various planets they’ve visited, little things scattered about his room here and there. Lance flops on his bed and watches a little nervously as Keith carefully picks up an empty leather-like album.

“It’s for one of my sisters,” Lance explains, jolting Keith out of whatever thought he was having and he almost drops the album. Keith looks at the album a little more carefully, fingers barely skimming over the front as he studies it.

“What is it?”

“Just something I found at an old book stall a while back. My sister Veronica is really into scrap booking. She and Mama would spend hours after family trips going through all the different photos to pick the best to ‘capture the heart of the trip’ or whatever.” Lance rolls his eyes but he knows there’s a fond smile on his lips that he can’t help. “I saw that and figured she’d be able to turn it into a really nice scrapbook when I get back.”

Keith nods along to his story, softly putting the book back where he found it when he’s done. His eyes flit around the room, catching on a few items before coming to sit on the floor across from Lance. Lance tries to tell himself he’s not disappointed Keith doesn’t sit next to him on the bed.

“Have you gotten anything else for your family?” The question actually surprises Lance, who realizes that yeah, actually. He had been collecting quite a bit.

“Yeah, I guess. There’s a ball over there that sticks to practically any surface that I got for my youngest nephew. I found some really neat stones at that glass planet my niece would love- I got her a rock tumbler a couple of Christmases ago and she’s been getting into making jewelry from it. Getting pretty good, too. Oh, and this!” Lance digs into one of the cubbies near his bed and brings out a delicately braided cord necklace.

He offers it to Keith, who stretches to reach for it and Lance tries not to stare of the curve of his back as he does. “This is really intricate,” Keith whispers, turning the cord over in his fingers with a gentleness that constricts Lance’s lungs.

“Yeah, I, um. I found that cord back on one of the trade planets we visited and well. The blue color reminded me of the ocean we used to visit the most when I was a kid. My mama said that it was always her favorite, and so I thought she would like a necklace from it.”

Keith’s fingers stroke down the intricate knots and braids, looking at Lance with a little wonder. “So you braided this?”

Lance almost blushes at the tone, rubbing the back of his neck and preening just the slightest at the wonderment in Keith’s voice. “Yeah, I did. My aunts and sisters taught me how to braid hair when I was really young and, well, it’s not much different.”

Keith scuffles over to give him the necklace back instead of stretching, before leaning his back against the end of Lance’s bed. “I think your mom will love it,” his voice is only a murmur but with how close he is now, Lance can hear every word and this time he can’t stop the heat from rising to his cheeks.

Lance watches as Keith’s hands dangle between his raised knees, shoulders relaxing back into the bed frame, hair falling with the movement. Lance idly thinks that he’s close enough that Lance could totally find out if his hair is as soft as he thinks it will be, which turns the heat in Lance’s cheeks to fire as he realizes that the thought had turned to action without thinking and his fingers are now frozen in Keith’s hair.

Keith stiffens underneath his hand, tilting his head back just enough to send Lance an unreadable look. “Uh, Lance?”

“Yep, sorry, didn’t mean to- removing the hand now.” Lance tries to move his hand back but the way Keith’s head is tilted it’s trapped between Keith’s head and the bed and Lance is a little mortified at himself.

“No, uh. It’s fine, I just. Wasn’t expecting it.”

“Oh, um. So, it’s okay?”

Keith snorts and rolls his eyes, “That’s what I just said, Lance.”

Lance looks down at the way Keith’s eyes avert to the floor as he drops his head forward just enough for Lance to move his hand and Lance is pretty sure there’s no way his face could burn more. He experimentally drags his hand through Keith’s hair and watches for any sign of Keith being uncomfortable before doing it again and again. His fingers move through the few tangles easily, the strands pretty soft and thick and Lance is fairly certain he can never make fun of this mullet again because he never wants to stop digging his fingers through Keith’s hair, ever.

Keith’s head drops a little more and Lance starts talking to keep things from possibly getting weird if Keith, like, starts wondering why Lance suddenly can’t keep his hands off him. “So, uh- did you have fun today?”

Keith hums in a little affirmative way and Lance thinks that’s all his answer is going to be for a minute before he finally says, “I really missed playing soccer.”

“You used to play?”

“I used to sometimes join in on some games at the Garrison. Basketball too, occasionally.”

“Were you any good? I couldn’t tell from today’s game,” Lance teases and he can see the corner of a small frown on Keith’s lips.

“Back in middle school I won a few trophies, but it wasn’t that big of a deal.”

“I don’t know why I’m surprised, that sounds _exactly_ like something you’d be good at.” Lance huffs and gives a little tug at the hair at the base of Keith’s neck. Keith jerks and grumbles and Lance laughs before dragging his nails lightly over his scalp there in an apology.

“I guess I’ve always just enjoyed being active.”

“Is that why you like to train so much?”

“I guess. I never really thought about it. I figure we need to stay in top form, but yeah. Training always helps clear my mind.”

Lance hums, letting the movements of his fingers become a soothing repetition. “That’s why I always used to love swimming. The water makes everything so weightless, especially my mind.”

“I don’t think you need the water’s help for that.” Keith’s smirk can be seen as he ducks away from Lance’s hand before he can give a sharp tug on his hair in retaliation. When it seems safe again, he twists and rests his crossed arms on the edge of the bed. Lance stretches out in front of him, stifling a tiny yawn. Keith watches the movement with tired eyes, but a small smirk is still in place from his earlier comment.

“Seriously, though, I wish we could just go to _one_ planet with a lake or something that wouldn’t kill us to swim in. I miss being able to do some laps.”

“You mean you don’t like the zero grav Altean version of pools?” Keith’s eyes are sparkling with humor beneath heavy eyelids and Lance grins.

“Always have to do everything so extreme, damn Alteans.”

Keith chuckles, the movement causing hair to fall in his face and Lance thinks maybe he should have just kept his hands to himself because now he’s always going to want to push the hair out of the way just to feel it again. His fingers twitch at his side so he stuffs his hand under his pillow because he isn’t willing to push his luck any more tonight.

He watches as Keith’s eyes close on a soft hum of laughter, and Lance thinks that he should probably tell him to go to bed. He closes his own eyes, just enjoying the easy presence of someone next to him, and tells himself that a couple more minutes won’t hurt.

 

* * *

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Okay, okay, Lance. We get it. We get what you mean.” 
> 
> “You do?” Lance breathes out, because he barely even gets what he means but he _means_ it.
> 
> “Yes, we get that you are totally gone for Keith, okay?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for taking so long to update! This chapter had so much I wanted to put into that it actually ended up being around 11.4k and then I just had to like, pump the brakes and split it into 2 chapters haha. I have this story mapped to what happens in each chapter, however, so that means an extra chapter kind of threw me off. Sooo I just edited and made this 7 chapters instead of 6. I hope no one minds, lol. 
> 
> Anyway, I'm glad to have this chapter out and I hope everyone enjoys it!

* * *

  

 _we can’t lose hope just yet because it’s once, just once in a lifetime-_ surefire, john legend

 

* * *

 

Lance doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to waking up in the castle; no light drifts into the room from the slowly rising sun, no sounds seep through the window from the world waking up around him. No, it’s only the gradual flutter of consciousness and then he’s suddenly awake; his first thought is half his body is _freezing_ and his second thought, after opening his eyes, is _oh._

Lance is practically hanging off the side of of his bed, one arm dangling over the edge and half the blanket basically in the floor. Or, rather, half the blanket is covering up Keith. Keith, curled on his side towards Lance and who had apparently stolen one of Lance’s pillows during the night, is still fast asleep on the floor. His hair is _everywhere_ and his mouth is just a little slack, and Lance can’t help but stare; that relaxed expression isn’t the only thing that captures his attention, however, since Keith’s hands are reached out almost as if they were trying to grab his during the night and Lance can feel all of his breath leave his body at once.

It’s a surprising blow when Lance actually _aches_ at the sight, stretching his fingers just slightly to brush his against Keith’s with a tenderness he didn’t know he could even offer. Lance had known he _wanted_ but he hadn’t known quite how much he wanted until now. He can barely put words to his feelings and then his heart wants to hit him with _this_? Lance is pretty sure the Universe considers his life the best running joke of this decapheeb.

Lance takes his hand back and curls it under his chest to keep it from reaching out again and doing anything else embarrassing but by the time he’s settled and raises his eyes from Keith’s hand, he realizes that Keith is blinking his eyes open and staring at him. Lance stares back for a few seconds without really registering the fact they’re just watching each other; when he does finally snap back to reality, he can feel the heat rising to his cheeks rapidly.

“Um. Hi.” Lance feels like the greeting may have been more of just an exhale of breath than words, but Keith smiles a little so he’s pretty sure he heard them.

“Hi,” Keith says back just as quietly, but the word fills the room and Lance breathes it in.

“Hi.”

“You said that already.” The teasing smirk at the edge of Keith’s lips should never be allowed to accompany his tired eyes, because Lance is fairly certain that combo could topple entire regimes.

That look and those words have Lance burying his face in his pillow with a groan. “C’mon, man, it’s too early. Don’t expect my brain to be fully functioning.”

“Don’t worry, Lance- I never expect that of you.” Keith’s words lose their heat as they get tangled in with a sigh as he stretches; Lance turns his face just enough to watch out of the corner of his eye, but immediately has to hide his face again because he’s pretty sure he can’t process that image this early in the morning.

He mumbles out a reply into his pillow, but Keith only chuckles. “You know I can’t hear you, right?”

“I _said_  you’re such a _jerk_ ,” Lance huffs, sitting up suddenly and whipping his pillow towards Keith’s head. Keith dodges it with a laugh and it lands with a _thunk_ somewhere across the room. Lance finally sits up and stretches himself, deciding this is _his room damn it_ and he shouldn’t have to feel embarrassed in his _own damn room_.

Keith yawns with another small stretch before tossing the edge of Lance’s blanket back up onto his bed. “Sorry for falling asleep here last night.” Lance is pretty sure he doesn’t look sorry. Lance isn’t really sorry either.

“Eh, it’s cool. Although you should bring your own blanket next time, ‘cause I’m not sharing mine again.” Lance snatches the blanket for emphasis but stops when he notices the weirdly intense look on Keith’s face. “... What?”

Keith shakes his head at his question, averting his gaze to the floor. “Nothing.”

Lance narrows his eyes, not really believing him. “ _What_?”

Keith rolls his eyes at his whining tone and stands, joints audibly popping with the movement. “It’s nothing, Lance. Just drop it.” There’s barely any heat to the words and Lance knows Keith isn’t the type to give into needling for answers, so he just mimics Keith’s eye roll and watches as Keith starts to leave.

Lance huffs out the last of his annoyance and follows Keith to the door, leaning on the frame when Keith stops and turns back around right after stepping out. “See you at breakfast, then?”

An easy, open look is back in Keith’s eyes as he rocks back and forth on his feet just a little. “Yeah, of course.”

Lance watches Keith leave for as long as he thinks would be considered a not-weird, totally platonic amount of time before pushing off the frame of his door with a warm feeling in his chest.

 

* * *

 

When Lance walks into the dining room for breakfast, everything is normal. He grabs a bowl of goo like he normally does, annoys Pidge by pretending to almost drop his bowl on their laptop for probably the seventy-sixth time, then drops into his seat next to Keith like usual. It’s completely _normal_ and Lance doesn’t know why he had been expecting things to feel different; sure, Keith spent the night in his room last night and _sure_ Lance maybe-really-totally liked waking up next to him. That’s fine though, right? Doesn’t mean things have to be different. And things obviously aren’t any different, since breakfast is _totally_ and _completely_ normal.

Lance eyes Keith lazily, sucking the last bite of goo from his spoon and just letting the utensil hang there, an itch to test the boundaries that seem to be slipping between them twitching in his fingers. On a whim, he whips the spoon out of his mouth and makes a stab with it toward Keith’s bowl while he’s distracted talking to Hunk. Lance just about nabs a scoop when-

“ _What_. Lance, what the hell, _no_.” Keith’s spoon smacks Lance’s down to the table with a sharp clang, his eyes narrowed in disbelief as Lance pouts.

“Don’t wanna share? C’mon man, just a bite.” Lance tries to yank his spoon out with a whine but Keith just narrows his eyes even more and apparently summons the power of Mjolnir or some shit because Lance has to give up and leave his spoon to die on the table.

“There’s plenty of goo to go around, you know,” Allura chimes in from the head of the table and Lance jumps a little, having forgotten there were others at the table with them which, just. No. That’s too embarrassing to even admit to himself so instead he leans back into his chair with an exaggerated huff and pointedly ignores the looks Pidge and Hunk are sending his way.

“What? I’m just concerned for my fellow paladin’s _diet_ , like a good teammate.”

Pidge snorts loudly at that and Lance shoots them a look that could fry the goo right out of their mouth.

“That’s, um, very noble of you Lance, I’m sure.” Allura tells him from behind her hand, eyes suspiciously bright with questionable little laugh lines crinkle around the edges.

“That’s very _weird_ of you, more like,” Keith snorts, stabbing his spoon possessively into his breakfast and well, Lance didn’t really expect anything different. At least some things really don’t change, even if things kept shifting between them lately; the reaction actually helps settle some of the nervous energy bouncing around against his bones. 

“So what’s on the agenda for today, anyway, Allura?” Hunk asks once he stops silently laughing at Lance, the _traitor_.

“Oh, well, actually I think it’s something you paladins might enjoy very much. Coran discovered the refractive lens for our star map is starting to warp and so we need to make a quick pit stop in the Kollurian system to-”

“Does this mean another space mall?” Pidge interrupts excitedly, shoving their glasses further up their nose as they lean in towards Allura across the table. Coran answers before Allura can even blink, hand smacking down on the table with an excitement to rival Pidge’s.

“Even better, I’d say, Number Five! There’s an open air trade market of sorts on the planet known for the mining of the gem used to make the lens we need. It’s renowned for the variety of vendors and-”

“So,” Lance drawls, “this is basically a space flea market.”

“Flea… Market? Aren’t ‘fleas’ the tiny parasites you said we had to check Kaltenecker for? Why would you have an entire market for such things?” Allura looks a little queasy and Lance can’t help but laugh. Neither can any of the other paladins, and even Shiro is hiding an amused chuckle behind a cough.

“That’s, ah. Not the same kind of flea, Princess,” Shiro explains patiently as Coran and Allura share a disbelieving look.

“Yeah, they’re basically these hubs of vendors who sell all sorts of things- crafts, foods, rare items. My mom used to love going to them when I was younger.” Pidge adds when they finally stop cackling, wiping a tear from the corner of one of their eyes.

Coran nods enthusiastically, “That sounds exactly right! So yes, Lance, we are going to what you would call a _space flea market_.”

 

* * *

 

So, Lance is pretty certain that this space flea market is more of a space flea _festival_ because it’s the largest market he’s ever seen and it feels so _alive_ with all of the bustling energy weaving between the people and the stalls and all of the sights and sounds.

The city is one of the few that isn’t actively populated with Galran soldiers; technically it’s ruled over by the Empire, but the only main export is the the gem from the caves halfway across the planet, so the city isn’t considered consequential enough to spare a guard. There’s still an undercurrent of tension that Lance is sure all of the paladins can feel, but the threat of Galran discovery is low enough they don’t have to bother with elaborate disguises this time.

Lance clenches a woven bag in his fist as they all walk past the first few stalls, a similar bag in most of the team’s hands. Almost everyone, with the exception of Shiro and Allura, had wanted to come to the market prepared to trade this time in case anything caught their eye; Lance shudders as the memory of the freezing cold water of the fountain at the space mall flashes through his mind.

Coran had inspected each of the paladin’s prospective trade items before they had left the ship, giving an estimation of trade value and his “ _don’t you dare accept less than forty GAC for that_ ” rings through Lance’s ears as he haggles with a vendor who is selling clothes. He brought a couple of the “gifts” the paladins all tended to collect from planet to planet, one of which was a robe made of fabric that definitely didn’t like human skin and made him break out for a full week.

It takes the better part of ten minutes, but Lance walks away with full pockets and takes a satisfactory glance around the rest of the nearby stalls now that he knows he can actually _shop_. He tries to take in all the different kinds of vendors and looks around in awe, spinning in a little circle, when his eyes land on Keith.

All of the others had already wandered off down different aisles as soon as they landed, but Keith is lingering at a stall nearby, a look of concentration on his face as he inspects some knife sheaths. Lance grins, fixed in place while watching as Keith’s eyebrows sink lower as his fingers deftly move over the stitching.

After a decisive minute Keith puts the item back down with a nod to the vendor, looking up and around the other stalls before catching eyes with Lance’s. Keith freezes for a second before Lance can see his shoulders loosen up, mouth quirking up just a fraction- Lance’s eyes track the subtle curve of the movement before snapping his attention back up to Keith’s stare. Keith tilts his head questioningly, one eyebrow raised and pointing his chin towards the rest of the market. Lance grins wide at the invite, jogging over to his side.

“This place is huge! I can’t believe it.” Lance knocks his shoulder with Keith’s as they fall into step together.

“I wasn’t expecting it either,” Keith hums, matching pace with Lance as they weave through the crowd. Lance can barely hear him over all the different languages that knit together to form a buzz of chatter around them so he leans his head down closer, hand automatically moving to Keith’s back to guide him around a tall, bird-like pair in front of them while Keith talks. “Ah. Um. Was there anything you wanted to look for?”

Lance looks down at the weird way Keith trips over his sentence, eyebrow raised and a quip already halfway out of his mouth when he realizes his hand is still resting on Keith’s lower back and the comment gets washed back down by a flood of embarrassment.

Lance yanks his hand back and tries to cover it up with a casual stretch. “I dunno. I think I want to see if there’s any sort of skin care here that wouldn’t, you know, melt my face off.”

Keith snorts, “You have been saying you miss exfoliating.”

Lance almost trips at the unexpected joke, catching himself by grabbing onto Keith’s arm and then glaring. “Don’t even _joke_ about that, Kogane. Navigating the universe’s beauty scene is a delicate dance, and one that mustn’t be _mocked_.”

“Oh, my bad. I didn’t realize it was such a _grave_ offense.”

Lance huffs at the roll of Keith’s eyes, nose turned up at the gesture but distracted by a stall with soft-looking fabrics. He stops, half expecting Keith to leave him behind, but instead he leans against the side of the stall and watches as Lance dances his fingers over the silken clothes. He tries to ignore the way the small gesture of waiting warms his chest and instead turns to the vendor to ask about the price.

New pajamas stuffed in the satchel Lance had brought his trade items in, Lance turns to find Keith already pushing off the side of the stall and walking towards him and Lance hides his smile. The pinkish light from the planet’s setting sun warms the air around them, and Lance takes a second to appreciate the fact they didn’t have to wear those ridiculous disguises in this subtle heat.

“Okay, samurai. What are _you_ looking for that’s _so_ much better than skincare products?”

“I never said _better_ -”

“Implications count, Keith.”

“So what was I _implying_ then, Lance?” Keith looks at him over his shoulder, eyes too bright in the pink light and smirk too easy, and there’s a fissure between Lance’s mouth and his brain because he can’t think of a single intelligent thing to say. Instead he snaps his jaw shut, afraid of letting something that would _definitely_ have some _implications_ slip out.

Lance huffs at Keith’s laughter, hoping the heat he feels in his cheeks is hidden by the warm light around them. “Just for that you don’t _get_ to pick the next stall, mullet.”

More laughter is the only response Lance gets, but Keith still follows him, so he isn’t sure who really won that battle.

 

* * *

 

They each wander between the different booths, sometimes breaking apart to look at different things, but Lance tries to not think too hard at the way they never stray too far from each other and how Keith never leaves his side for long. It’s Lance who drifts back over to Keith this time though, interest already lost at the booth selling an ungodly amount of jars filled with what Lance hopes were just pickled vegetables.

Keith is deep inside a book stall, hesitant fingers hovering just above the cover of a dusty looking tome. Unable to help himself, Lance’s eyes catch on the sharp angles of Keith’s fingers, the curve his wrist; the gentle way Keith’s fingertips brush the spines of books, how his lips just barely move as he tries to read the titles, the slope of his neck as he bends to get a better look- all things that snag Lance’s attention as he lingers just a little too long from the edge of the tent before he determinedly shakes away the blush creeping up his cheeks. They’re hanging out, they’re being _friends_ , and Lance needs to just _quit it_.

So instead of finding out if his fingers would slot together perfectly with Keith’s, he sneaks up behind Keith and blows out a breath strong enough to kick up a whirlwind of dust right into Keith’s face. Keith immediately rears back, sputtering, and spins to glare at Lance.

Lance _cackles_. If there’s something he enjoys more than watching a concentrating Keith, it may very well be an indignant Keith.    

“What the _hell_ , Lance?”

Lance wipes tears from the corners of his eyes, propping himself up on one of the bookcases. “I’m sorry, sorry just- you looked so serious.” _And I kind of really needed you to stop with the fingers thing._

“And that was a bad thing _why_?” Keith wipes the last bit of dust from his face and shakes out his hair, an accusatory look peeking out from under his bangs.

“I never said it was a _bad_ thing. Just keeping you on your toes.” When Keith gives his hair one last swat to get the dust out, Lance pushes off the bookcase and leans toward the book Keith had lingered on longest. “Find anything interesting?”

Keith only looks wary of leaning in again for a few seconds before he must determine it’s safe and pulls the book out. “I think it’s some sort of history of the rise of the Empire. I thought it might be a good resource.”

“Bah, that’s not interesting. Zarkon took over, lots of suffering, many millennia of pain, blah blah blah. We know that already.”

Keith rolls his eyes with a huff of annoyance. “Yeah, but not told from the perspective of someone who grew up during that time.”

“I think we’ve met and saved enough people to know what it was like to grow up in it,” Lance says flippantly, skimming the other books around them for something that might stand out.

“I just thought it would be interesting.” Keith frowns, pushing the book back in with enough force to make Lance wince. He leaves with a weight in his steps and Lance stares up the top of the tent, kicking himself. _Smooth, buddy_.

On a whim, Lance pulls the book back out and quickly makes a deal with the merchant and shoves the book in his bag before jogging out after Keith. Keith is already several booths down when Lance reaches him, and he is determinedly not looking at Lance.

Lance wants to groan in frustration because they were getting along so much _better_ damn it, but it’s still hard to navigate around the months of volatile communication and habits; as much as they’re getting better, Lance knows they still don’t really _know_ each other in a lot of ways that actually count. So, he swallows the lump of something telling him this is _too much_ and takes a deep breath.

“I, uh. I was never really any good at history.”

“... What?”

“History. I always had a hard time reading history books because I had a hard time relating to how clinical they are about events. I never could understand it, because I couldn’t _feel_ it.”

“Oh.” Keith looks at him like he’s trying to figure something out, dark eyes dusty in the pink light, before clearing his throat and looking away. It’s quiet between them for a moment as Keith stops at a stall with different wood-worked designs.

Wanting to distract himself from the embarrassment heating his gut, Lance picks up a bowl interlaced with the prettiest jade-green gem he’s ever seen and turns it around in his hands before catching the wary look of the vendor and gently placing it back down where he found it. Keith has a silent laugh hiding at the edge of his lips and Lance can’t help but stare just a little bit, that heat growing into something a little more tender.

“I have a hard time with relating to emotions I read about,” Keith quietly admits as they move on to the next stall, eyes distracted by the leather-like bags; Lance can’t tell if it’s from actual interest in the goods or because he doesn’t want to look at Lance with the admission.

“Yeah?” It feels like he’s just been told a secret and is afraid to pry for more but he’s already holding his breath at this small admission, feeling the weight of it in the air between them.

“Yeah. If I haven’t… Felt it, you know. Myself. Emotions are hard for me to relate to, especially through books. So I’ve always preferred more historical books, or how-to books, or sometimes biographies.” His words are reserved, hesitant, but there’s an invitation in them that sparks something in Lance; Lance wants to take the words and bury them in his chest to keep the moment safe.

“You really like to read, then?”

“Yeah, I guess. I never really had much time for it when I was younger, but then after the Garrison I spent a lot of time reading anything I could find. It was a fine way to pass the nights.”  

“What was your favorite thing you’ve ever read?”

Keith’s face shows his surprise at the question but it quickly softens to quiet consideration. Lance watches as Keith thinks with that same intensity Lance has come to discover Keith has for just about everything he does; anything that’s lucky enough to have his attention has _all_ of that attention, all at once. Lance thinks that it might be overwhelming to be on the receiving end of attention like that, but man. He kind of wouldn’t mind that attention crushing him.

“There was this book of constellations I used to read and I would try to match the constellations from the book to the sky back in the desert. It told the different cultural stories behind each constellation, too. That was one of my favorite things to do back then.”

“Is that what you were doing that night?” Lance doesn’t think he needs to clarify which night he’s talking about, and he’s right.

Keith’s eyes flash up to his immediately; there’s a delicate openness hiding in the lines around his eyes and Lance swallows thickly, holding the stare. Finally, Keith nods slowly before looking away again but the moment is still there, weaving something a little more tangible between them and Lance wants to run his fingers through it and hold tight.

They walk between the booths a little slower now, and Lance is pretty sure he isn’t imagining things when Keith seems to bump into him a little more now, fingers brushing against Lance’s arm when he reaches for something, his shoulder knocking against Lance’s as they walk; Lance thinks maybe Keith needed something a little more solid between them too, something that bridged a gap they’re still toeing around. Either way, the tension has dropped from Keith’s shoulders and Lance thinks maybe that’s enough for now.

 

* * *

 

Keith is leaning over his shoulder to look at the lamp that kinda sorta totally looks like a genie’s bottle and Lance might be trying to rub it as inconspicuous as possible _just in case_ when he notices the tiny pouch on Keith’s hip. He gives up on the lamp and put it back, turning around with a disappointed sigh. He eyes the pouch again and gives into his curiosity.

“So uh, what’s in the bag?”

Keith looks down at the cloth bag clipped to his belt as if he forgot it was there. Knowing how easily he gets caught up in whatever thing he’s doing in that moment, Lance figures he probably _did_ actually forget.

“Oh. Um, it’s this.” He pulls open the strings and takes out a flattened marble, all dark except for a few flecks of navy and white. Lance looks up from inspecting the item curiously. “I just thought Shiro might like it,” Keith tells him in answer to his silent question.

Lance looks at it a little closer and yeah, he could see Shiro liking it. It kind of reminds him of the stars from the Garrison. “So things are… Good, between you two again?”

Keith drops the marble back into his pouch and shrugs. “Things were never bad.”

“But the uh. Fight.” Lance doesn’t elaborate, mostly because he still doesn’t know how much he’s allowed to ask.

Keith doesn’t seem to mind, only leading them back out into the bustling aisle. “Yeah, it was a fight. We’re allowed to disagree without hating each other afterwards, you know.”

Lance shrugs and shoves his hands into his pockets. “I know that. I just. I dunno. I’m not used to seeing you two fight much.”

“We don’t, I guess. But even when we do, it doesn’t change anything.”

“Doesn’t change what?” Pidge’s voice startles the both of them, each of them whipping around to see Pidge right behind them with a shit-eating grin on their face.

“There you guys are! We’ve been looking for you.” Hunk pushes through the throng of people behind Pidge, a little breathless but a much friendlier grin on his face.

“Oh hey guys. Find anything good around here?”

“Oh heck yes I did! I found _salt._ ” Hunk triumphantly brandishes a small container and his grin widens at both Lance and Keith’s wide-eyed stares.

“ _Dude!_ For real, it’s actual salt?” Lance asks, bouncing up and down a little and making grabby hands for the container.

“Yep. Though for some reason the guy selling it to me kind of acted like it was some back-alley deal? But whatever, it’s honest to God salt.”

“Yeah, yeah, Hunk found salt but guess what _I_ found.” The look hasn’t left Pidge’s face through the entire exchange, a mischievous flash in their eyes before looking around cautiously and pulling out-

“Are those _bottle rockets?_ ”

Pidge shoves the small fireworks back into their bag with an excited nod. “You bet your ass they are. The person who was selling them said they are ‘personal sized explosives’ that have a ‘reasonable display’ so that tells me they’re most definitely bottle rockets.”

“Oh _man_ do you know what this means?” Lance slings an arm over Keith’s shoulders, hauling him in close with a conspiratorial smile.

“Allura’s going to kill us if she finds out?” Keith guesses with a shrug.

“Not if we get rid of all of the evidence first, my friend.” Lance hollers a commanding _onward_ for them all to follow, purposely ignoring the way Keith doesn’t push his arm off and instead just lets himself be pulled along.

 

* * *

 

Apparently “personal sized explosives” actually meant “massive explosives shoved into a tiny package,” because what they had thought would be a subtle show of lights and mostly noise turned into the most spectacular fireworks show Lance had ever seen in his entire life.

It is also how Allura, Coran, and Shiro find them and promptly make them leave the planet before even more attention is drawn to them. Totally worth it, though, as Lance remembers the bright reflection of each burst and spiral in Keith’s eyes when he whispered in awe:

“I’ve never actually seen fireworks before.”

“You have now.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I have.” The grin he gave Lance was more vivid than any of the fire in the sky that night.

 

* * *

 

 

It’s the next night when Lance remembers the book. He’s rustling through his bed sheets trying to find his space tablet because he took a few pictures of the fireworks the night before- _maybe_ a couple of Keith, but no one needs to know that- and Pidge told him they found out a way to put them in a holoframe when he upends his bag and the book falls out with a heavy _thump_ along with his tablet.

He blinks at the book for a few seconds before it registers, but when it does he grabs the book up and is out the door before he even thinks about it.

Keith answers his knock before his hand can fall all the way back down to his side. “Lance?”

“Hey, buddy. I forgot to give this to you yesterday.” Lance holds the book between them and Keith takes it with gentle hands.

“You… Got this for me?”

“Yeah, man. You said you thought it would be interesting, right? And it doesn’t look too old, so that translator of Coran’s should still work on the pages.”

Keith nods absently, flipping the book open and running his fingers down the pages. He looks up when Lance clears his throat, a little warm from remembering his thoughts about those fingers just the day before.

“Thank you, Lance.” The words are simple but tangible and Lance clears his throat again nervously.

“Yeah, well, I thought you’ve probably read all the books around here by now. Anyway, I told Pidge I’d meet up with them in the bay so… See you around?”

Keith nods again and Lance turns on his heel, ignoring the feeling of Keith’s eyes on his back all the way down the hall.

Pidge is in the bay on their computer with Hunk pointing at the screen over their shoulder when Lance walks in. He immediately slinks over the free chair and flops into it with a dramatic sigh. Neither of them look up from the screen at the announcement so he throws his legs up on the table and sighs harder.

Pidge rolls their eyes and pulls their laptop away from his feet. “So what’s wrong, Lance?”

“Oh, nothing.”

“Mmhm, okay,” Hunk says with a placating pat to Lance’s knee.

“Well, if you _insist_ on knowing. Keith is just so _distracting_ lately.” Lance lets out a sorrowful breath while Pidge’s face scrunches up in ways that would _definitely_ give them wrinkles in the future.

“I don’t think I want to hear this.” They groan when Lance continues on.

“I did what  you said, Hunk, and I’ve been getting to know him and it’s the _worst_.”

“Well, I mean, if you hate getting to know him _that much_ then maybe-”

Lance flaps his hands as he quickly dismisses the comment. “No, no- _he’s_ not the worst. He’s perfect and _that’s_ the worst. Like, I already knew he was perfect but now he’s _actually_ perfect and it’s the worst because I don’t _hate_ it anymore.”

“Nobody’s perfect, Lance,” Pidge scoffs and pushes their glasses up their nose.

“He’s not _nobody_ , Pidge. He’s… He’s perfect because now I know he’s _not_ perfect.”

“Dude, you’re making literally zero sense right now.” Hunk shares and look with Pidge, who nods in agreement.

“It makes _perfect_ sense.” Lance tosses back, eyes narrowed.

“You’ve also officially reached your quota for using the word ‘perfect’ for today, by the way,” Pidge tells him with another groan.

Lance rolls his head back and lets it dangle off the back of the chair, huffing out his frustration at the ceiling. “Listen, it does make sense. He was so frustrating before, because he just. He was so effortlessly good at everything and was so untouchable because of it, right?”

“I mean, I guess?” Hunk offers him a shrug.

“Right. So like, now I’ve gotten to know him and he’s not perfect, okay? He- he’s-” Lance thinks of the quiet moments between them, the soft looks and softer touches; Keith, bright-eyed with laughter, a quip on the tip of his tongue; he selfishly doesn’t want to share any of those moments even with his friends, wants to keep those bundled up against his heart where they’ll be safe and they’ll be _his_ . “He’s hot headed but it’s because he _cares_ and he’s quiet not because he thinks he’s better than anyone but because he thinks so much before he speaks and-”

“Okay, okay, Lance. We get it. We get what you mean.” Pidge shakes their head and waves their arms in the air in a _cut it out I swear to god_ motion.

“You do?” Lance breathes out, because he barely even gets what he means but he _means_ it.

“Yes, we get that you are _totally gone_ for Keith, okay?” Lance groans at the answer. 

“Have you said anything to him about it?” Hunk asks softly, more understanding in his eyes than the look Pidge is giving him.

“What? Why would I do that?” Lance sputters, laughing a little because _no_.

“Because if you don’t _we’re_ going to be the ones that have to listen to this every day until we die,” Pidge deadpans with a raised eyebrow, arms crossing over their chest with a defiant look all over their face.

“Can’t I just live forever in a state of longing and die with the perfect idea of what coulda been in my heart?”

“Hey! I said you reached your quota for perfect!”

“Plus, dude, that’s like, hella morbid.”

“Morbid? Maybe. Preferable to dying of embarrassment when Keith rejects me? Most definitely.”

“You don’t know that Keith will reject you, you know,” Hunk points out gently.

“Yeah, even I have noticed the way he’s been looking at you lately.”

“You people and your _looks_.”

“Hey, we weren’t wrong about the look _you_ were giving Keith,” Pidge challenges with narrowed eyes.

“That’s different-”

“Mmmm, yeah, it’s really not, dude,” Hunk interjects with pat to his shoulder. “You know you have to tell him, right? Ohhh I know, the next diplomatic planet visit we make you could totally pull him away somewhere romantic and confess and-”

“Okay, okay, Hunk, not you too,” Pidge is the one who interjects this time, covering their eyes with both hands before dragging them down their face, before whipping one hand out point to point at Lance. “Listen, I don’t want to play part in this _at all_ , but if it means we _never have to talk about this again_ then I can help with Hunk’s idea and we can make sure you guys get some alone time or whatever and you can make it _perfect_ , I guess.”

Lance looks between them nervously, his voice a little smaller than he intends when he asks, “You guys really think I should?”

Hunk tosses an arm around his shoulders with a warm smile. “Dude, yes, it’ll be fine.”

“Okay. Okay, I’ll do it.” 

 

* * *

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Keith silently shakes with laughter under Lance’s arm, and when Lance looks down at him there’s such a genuine smile on his face that Lance’s heart trips over itself. He can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of his own mouth, and for a moment Lance lets himself think he’s home; he’s surrounded by family and comfort and it’s the only thing that matters."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyooooo! So this chapter is un-beta'd so please forgive me for any mistakes. I've read over it so many times I think my eyes might fall out, but I know I've probably missed a few things. I really hope it flows well, I struggled with this chapter a bit. 
> 
> Buuut I did want to give a shout out to @goldenboymustang because I managed to get out an extra 3.7k for this chapter as a belated birthday gift! Thank you for always taking the time to comment, I always appreciate it <3 
> 
> That does bring this chapter to a whopping 9.4k though so I hope everyone enjoys! The next update might take a little longer since I'm going into a very busy time at work and it may kill me, it's fine. Everything's fine. But thank you all for reading and enjoy!

* * *

  

 _and we’re scared to love but it’s alright_ \- surefire, john legend

 

* * *

 

Lance is going over the plan in his head again back in his room when he hears a knock on his door. He figures it’s probably Hunk coming back for one more pep talk before bed because _bless him_ , so it’s a surprise when the door to his room _whooshes_ open to reveal Keith’s unsure face.

“Hi,” Lance breathes out, then winces; Keith seems to have the same flashback because there’s a small smile now that eases the lines on his face.

“You, uh, said to bring my own blanket next time. So I, um.” Keith holds up the folded blanket like an offering and Lance’s eyes track the movement, mouth falling open on a soft _oh_ when he spots the book he got Keith in his other hand. It all clicks into place at once, and Lance feels his body move before his brain registers it.

“Well, good, because I’m still not sharing, man.” Lance swallows down the warm lump in his throat when the smile on Keith’s lips softens with relief, following Lance’s invitation and walking over the the side of the bed again to sit on the floor, leaning back against the bed frame.

“You want to read?” Lance motions to the book now in Keith’s lap.

“Oh… Yeah, I guess. I was trying to read it earlier but it just got…” He trails off, and Lance recognizes the look in his eyes; it’s the same look that was there that night Lance first found him, and Lance’s heart clenches in his chest.

“Yeah, man, I get it. I think I’ll play some games, then.” Lance tries to not think about how Keith came to _him_ and how natural it felt to have Keith there, settling in against his bed and opening his book with a content look on his face.

Lance pulls out his game system and goes through the motions, playing through a level he’s beaten probably at least twenty times now, letting the normalcy seep into his bones and ease the nervous tension in his shoulders. It’s quiet between them, the only sounds being soft curses when Lance misses a jump here and there, and Lance almost doesn’t notice when Keith stretches out his legs and his toes press against Lance’s thigh.

He does notice, though, and his heart stutters against his ribs. Keith doesn’t seem to think much of the movement, eyes still firmly on the page, but Lance thinks _everything_ of it; carefully, he lifts his controller out of his lap in an invitation his voice can’t seem to offer. Without missing a beat, though, Keith’s legs extend a little further and his feet get comfortable on top of Lance’s lap while Lance’s heart trips into overtime.

Lance’s arms drop back on top of Keith’s legs, swallowing down the casualty of it that pushes against his lungs and makes it hard to breathe. It’s easier to believe what Pidge was saying when they’re like this; it’s content and warm and peaceful, and it’s more than Lance ever thought they could have. It’s because it’s _more_ that he thinks anything else would be pushing the seams of their friendship, testing boundaries that keep bleeding through the lines Lance thought were the limits between them.

It’s when Lance dies for the fourth time fighting the second boss level that he rage quits and flops back on the ground. Keith’s foot nudges against his chest and Lance’s hand automatically finds it with a gentle squeeze.

“Giving up, McClain?” The soft tease is like warm smoke, filling his lungs and billowing out around his limbs and Lance breathes it in.

“It’s a strategic exit,” Lance tosses back, fingers lightly trailing up the arch of Keith’s foot in revenge. The subtle yelp and kick Keith gives him curls a grin out of his lips. “Your book any good?” Lance asks, propping himself up on his elbows and catching Keith’s legs as he tries to pull them away at the movement, fingers wrapping around one of his ankles to make sure he knows it’s still okay to rest against him. More than okay- definitely preferred.

Keith settles back down under Lance’s small reassurance. “I think so, yeah. The author had a very interesting perspective of Zarkon’s rise to power.”

Lance nods along to Keith’s words, fingers absently rubbing circles into the arch of his foot. “It’s sometimes hard to imagine that his reign has lasted ten thousand years, huh?”

“Yeah, it is. I think about how most people in the universe haven’t known anything but the Empire for their entire lives, yet people still fight. People still reach for a freedom they don’t even remember, haven’t even experienced.”

“Kind of like you,” Lance whispers out on a thought that was meant to be private but fought its way past his lips.  

“... What do you mean?”

 Heat immediately floods Lance’s face at the cautious look Keith is giving him. Might as well be honest at this point, he guesses, before breathing out the rest of his thought. “I just mean, like. You fight relentlessly for a freedom that isn’t yours.”

“We all do that, Lance.” Keith’s toes stretch in his palm and Lance shakes his head.

“Most of us we… We’re fighting for ourselves, when you think about it. Fighting for our families back at home, fighting for the family we lost. You fight just because it’s the right thing to do.”  

The air is thick between them after the words tumble out, and Lance realizes a second too late that maybe reminding Keith of the family he lacks is a little insensitive. His mouth hangs open, lips trying to form an apology he doesn’t know how to actualize when Keith’s voice dissolves the tension.

“I always wondered if having people to fight for back on Earth would make it easier or harder.” The admission is barely heavier than the breath Lance lets out after hearing it. Lance feels the space between them is too much for an admission like that, too wide that the words would lose their meaning travelling across the space, so he lifts Keith’s feet out of his lap and crawls over to lean against the bed beside him.

“I don’t know if it makes it any easier, if I’m being honest.” Lance crosses his arms on the bed and twists to rest his head on them, eyes following Keith as he mimics the movement. Lance brings his knees up between them and tries to catch his stuttering breath when Keith tucks an arm over one of Lance’s knees. He’s so close that Lance can see a tiny scar under his eyebrow and he gets so caught up in wanting to know the story behind it he almost misses Keith’s whispered-

“You don’t?” Lance hums in confirmation, eyes lazily finding their way back to Keith’s; it’s too much temptation, having him so close- Lance couldn’t help but get lost for a moment. It’s a few seconds too late when he realizes he should probably give a _real_ answer.

Lance breathes out, long and slow, considering the question again. “I mean, I worry every day about what if we fail and Earth is next on Zarkon’s list, you know? It’s one thing to imagine the whole universe suffering if we fail, but it’s almost worse to think of my family suffering because us. Because we weren’t enough- because _I_ wasn’t enough.”

“I think I know what you mean.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Sometimes, when I think of failing, I’m not thinking about failing the universe. I think of failing the team.” Keith’s stare is insistent, intense, and Lance was right- having that intensity directed at him is completely overwhelming; it’s hard to breathe under a stare like that. Trying to escape for just a second, his eyes flick down but- nope, yeah that’s worse, eyes flying back up from Keith’s lips. Not even gonna _entertain_ that thought; instead he chokes out a laugh he hopes is less nervous than he feels.

“What a mess we got all of ourselves into, huh? All of us, one day goes by and suddenly we’re fighting a war and scared of losing the universe to Thanos on steroids.” Lance gives him a crooked grin, most of it hidden from being buried in his jacket in an attempt to hide the heat in his cheeks, but it’s all he can muster.

“I wouldn’t change it, though.” There’s such a simple clarity in Keith’s voice that helps ease some of the nerves jittering under Lance’s skin.

Lance searches Keith’s eyes for something- maybe it’s for any hint of untruth, maybe it’s for something deeper, but Lance doesn’t find it; he should know better, anyway, since he knows Keith doesn’t hide things like that. He’s honest, even when he shouldn’t be.

He thinks of how telling him about the feelings scratching against his throat, itching to get out, _would_ change things, and he sighs.

“I wouldn’t change any of it either, man.”

 

* * *

 

Lance is pretty certain that there must be a deity overlooking the universe and that they were being blessed by it the moment Allura agrees to stop at a _diner_ after a particularly hard mission; they all smell terrible, Lance kind of dies at the thought of anyone seeing how gross his hair is, and there’s a bone-deep weariness in his joints that wants to drag him down but it’s a _diner_.

Okay, it’s less of a diner and more of a interspace ship stop that happens to serve food, but it has a neon light out front and an _Open 20 Vargas a Quintent_ sign in the window and that’s close enough to a diner that Lance practically dances to the door.

They all tumble in and Lance thinks they must be one hell of a sight, battle-worn and dirty, but the host must have _seen some shit_ because he doesn’t even blink at their arrival. “Right this way,” he says as he leads them to a corner booth in the back.

“Is this like all of your Earth diners, young paladins?” Coran asks cheerily, smoothly sliding into the booth like a pro. Allura and Shiro slide in the other side while Hunk and Pidge pile in next to Coran and Lance ignores the look Hunk gives him as he has no choice but to squeeze in next to Keith. It’s a tight fit with all of them, and that’s the exact excuse Lance uses to stretch an arm across the back of Keith’s seat- it’s only to _make room_ and Pidge can stop with the barely-contained cackling _anytime, thanks_.

“You have to understand, Coran my good man, that there are levels of Earth diners. This would probably be at the Waffle House level,” Lance answers with way more seriousness than probably needed for a conversation about diners.

“And what’s the _Waffle House_ level, Lance?” Keith’s teasing voice is way too close and Lance has to distract himself with the menu that he can’t really read.

“Meaning it’s on par with a Waffle House, duh, Kogane.”

“You don’t even know if this place makes anything close to waffles.”

“Waffle House isn’t about the _waffles_ , Keith, it’s about the spirit!” Lance gives Keith his best _tsk_ -ing.

“Yeah, Keith, how dare you try to boil down the experience of a Waffle House to just their _waffles_.” Pidge pipes up, tossing a napkin Keith’s way and Lance forgives them for the cackling and fist bumps them across the table.

“To be fair, it is in the name,” Shiro muses, a heavy exhaustion in his eyes but Lance doesn’t let that trick him into believing for one second that Shiro doesn’t know what he was starting with that comment.

“What is a waffle?” Allura interrupts them with a raised hand, and Lance lets his retort dissolve in his mouth.

Hunk goes into the most lovingly-detailed description of a waffle that Lance has ever heard, but he gets distracted by the way Keith leans into his side just enough to disconnect Lance’s brain from his body.

“I never actually went to one back on Earth,” Keith tells him quietly, tilting his head up just enough so Lance can see his face.

“Dude, you never went to a Waffle House? That’s crazy! Me ‘n Hunk used to sneak out of the Garrison and go the next town over to the one there like, all the time. Did you just never want to go?”

“I just didn’t have anyone to go with, I guess.” Keith shrugs like that statement didn’t just break Lance’s heart.

Lance gapes at him for just a second before letting his arm slip off the back of the booth and over Keith’s shoulders. “Well you do now, dude. You and me, as soon as we get back- we’re hitting up the closest Waffle House.”

“I can’t wait,” Keith snorts, but he doesn’t pull away from Lance’s arm and Lance has to fight the blush threatening to creep up his neck.

Allura and Coran end up having to order for all of them because none of them feel like having to put on their helmets just to translate a menu, but Lance likes to think of it as some sort of menu roulette.

“So this… Waffle House is the lowest level?” Allura asks after all the menus have been taken up.

Lance and Hunk both gasp at the same time while Pidge just looks mildly afronted. “Waffle House is solidly mid tier, Princess,” Lance tells her firmly.

“But Hunk just described even the newest of these restaurants as ‘having a layer of grease built in.’ Why would that be a good thing?” 

“I think that is supposed to be part of the charm,” Coran says wisely, stroking his mustache like he is in the middle of imagining the scene.

“See, Coran gets it,” Pidge exclaims, waving an arm in Coran’s direction with approval.

“Plus, everything has about three times the amount of salt that’s probably healthy and it’s _the best_ at two in the morning.” Hunk nods sagely as he takes out the tiny bottle of salt that Lance had completely forgotten he bought at the market.  

“Is that- it is! My boy, what do you intend to do with _this_?” Coran gasps after he takes the bottle from Hunk and inspects it closely.

“It’s salt. It goes on food and makes it 100% better,” Hunk says defensively, cradling the bottle after Coran gives it back.

“You put that on your food? But it dehydrates you! It can kill you!” Allura looks like the entire conversation is more than she’s ever wanted to know about humans and their unhealthy habits.

“If you eat too much of it, sure, but a small amount doesn’t hurt,” Shiro assures her with a placating smile on his face to hide the humor Lance can see in his eyes.

“Yeah, just- here, try it,” Hunk tells Coran and Allura as their food arrives, sprinkling some salt over their dishes while they give wary looks.

One bite, though, and Coran is exclaiming, “Why, you humans continue to amaze me! Say, you lot should serve this on all your dishes!” Coran practically leans out of his seat to shove the bottle of salt into the face of the most unamused waiter Lance has ever seen in his entire life.

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to sit down and to put that away,” the waiter instructs dully, barely batting an eye at Coran’s outburst. Shiro quickly apologizes as Allura ushers Coran back into his seat while Pidge is _cackling_.

Keith silently shakes with laughter under Lance’s arm, and when Lance looks down at him there’s such a genuine smile on his face that Lance’s heart trips over itself. He can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of his own mouth, and for a moment Lance lets himself think he’s home; he’s surrounded by family and comfort and it’s the only thing that matters.

It’s the solid weight of Keith against his side, an unyielding warmth as they laugh around bites of something that isn’t food goo for the first time in forever, that eventually reminds him that while this moment is almost everything he’s wanted since they left Earth, it’s not perfect. There’s still Hunk’s plan hanging over his head, a thought that drops his shoulders a little lower; how can he risk messing this up?

Lance swallows the doubt as fast as it pops up, pushing it away for a while longer to let himself enjoy pulling Keith just a little closer and the way he _lets_ him. He can have this for a while longer.

 

* * *

 

“Oh my god, I can’t believe Coran got us kicked out of our first space diner,” Pidge is still wheezing with laughter by the time they make it back to the castle ship, wiping tears from the edges of their eyes.

“The look on the manager’s face when she accused Coran of trying to solicit poison? I’m dead. This is my animated corpse, oh my god.” Lance doubles over while howling out another laugh, one hand finding Keith’s shoulder to keep himself up right.

Hunk chuckles, “Reminds me of that one time during finals-”

“ _Yes_ , dear lord, we probably _still_ can’t go back to that Denny’s.” Another peal of laughter shakes Lance’s entire body and he thinks he might not breathe ever again.

“Well, for one, you should never go to another Denny’s again anyway,” Pidge tells them with a mild look of disgust.

“Oh, I’ve actually been to one of those,” Keith pipes up and Lance _gasps_.

“ _Dude._  You’ve been to a _Denny’s_ but not a Waffle House? That just isn’t right.”

“What? What’s wrong with Denny’s? It was alright.”

Pidge snorts. “Wrong. Denny’s is, and will forever be, an enigma of the lowest tier diners.”

“Well _I_ thought it was fine.”

Lance shakes his head mockingly, slinging an arm around Keith’s shoulders and waving his other arm in front of them. “Don’t worry, babe, when we get back to Earth I’ll definitely take you to a classydiner that will blow Denny’s out of the water.”

It’s the look that Hunk is giving him that makes Lance replay his words in his head and _dear jesus in heaven_ he just called Keith _babe ohmygod_ he just made things _weird_ -

“Oh, like Waffle House?” Keith laughs, continuing toward their rooms like nothing happened and Lance thinks he could very well cry in relief. Hunk is just shaking his head at Pidge but Lance doesn’t care because it’s _all good_.

“What, like you don’t want to go? Don’t insult the Waffle House, Keith- it’ll know when we go and then your waffles will burn.”

“I’m sure it works exactly like that.”

“It _does_ , that’s why I said it.”

“ _Anyway_ , guys, this is our stop,” Pidge interrupts them, thumbing at their and Hunk’s rooms. “As much as I’d like to hear the end to this riveting argument, I’m gonna go pass out.”

“Yeah, same. Night guys!” Hunk gives Lance a quick hug and whispers a quick _just confess now oh my god_ in his ear and Lance pushes him away with a hushed _dude stop shush_. Hunk chuckles before giving Keith a small wave and disappearing into his room.

“So,” Lance drawls after a few moments of silence while he and Keith walk back to their rooms.

“So?”

“You want to hang out again?” Lance asks in a bit of a rush, trying to not seem too eager but well. He is.

Keith looks just a tiny bit startled at the invitation before his expression relaxes. “Oh, ah- I had wanted to shower?”

Lance nods quickly, embarrassed at forgetting that yeah, they were both terribly gross from the mission and it was stupid to ask, anyway. “Oh yeah totally, cool. Yeah, no problem man, forget I-”

“But I could come by after? If that’s okay?” Keith interrupts him softly and Lance clicks his mouth shut.

“Yeah, definitely!” Laugh winces at how enthusiastic he sounds and coughs, clearing his throat. “I mean- yeah, that’d be cool. It’s whatever.”

Keith gives him a look before shaking his head with a laugh and turning to go in his room and Lance watches him disappear before practically tripping into his own room and running to the shower.

Keith wants to hang out with him more, and Lance? Lance can barely contain himself, rushing through his shower and moisturizing routine. He’s pulling his sleep shirt over his head when he hears his door open, head popping out with a smile to greet a dumbstruck Keith.

Lance tilts his head at the look Keith is giving him, glancing down at his shirt. “What? Do I have stains or something?”

Keith snaps out of it, shaking his head. “No, sorry. Guess I should have uh, knocked.”

“Huh? Oh, nah, man you’re fine. _Mi casa es tu casa_ and all that jazz.” Lance hops onto his bed and watches as Keith just stands in the doorway; it hits him a second too late that he didn’t actually think this far ahead. “Oh, um. You want to sit?” Lance pats the bed next to him and is mildly surprised when Keith actually nods and shuffles onto the bed next to him.

Lance gets a little nervous at the next few beats of silence, not wanting Keith to get bored and regret coming to hang out because he’s pretty sure he would _actually die_ if that happened, so he just opens his mouth and lets out the first thing that comes to mind.

“Man, you know what I really miss?” Keith looks at him with a raised eyebrow so Lance takes that as permission to answer his own question. “ _Movies_. Those Altean motion pictures Coran keeps trying to get us to watch just aren’t the same.”

 “I take it you were never one for foreign films?”

Lance huffs out a laugh, knocking his knee against Keith’s. “ _No_ , never. I never was one for subtitles. I get too distracted from reading that I miss everything going on in the scene.”

“What kind of movies did you like, then?”

Lance flops back against his pillows with hefty _oh man_. Keith leans over him, elbows resting against his own knees, and Lance is hyper-aware of the way Keith’s shins press against his side and how his hair is curled slightly from his shower. “I’ve always been a sucker for rom-coms, I guess.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Keith rolls his eyes and Lance swats at his knee for it.

“Hey, when you have an older sister who has bad taste in partners, you get used to watching them.”

“You watched them with your sister?” Keith asks, a little softer this time.

“Oh, yeah, me and ‘Roni had this post-break up tradition where we’d split a half gallon of her favorite ice cream and watch rom-coms until our brains turned to mush. Seriously, we wouldn’t move from the couch until either we started getting bed sores or she forgot about whichever ex it was.”

Keith watches him while his hands go flying as he talks, and Lance isn’t sure if he’ll ever get used to that look being directed at him. “You were really close with your sister, weren’t you?”

Lance lets his hands drop to his stomach with a sigh. “I mean, I was really close with all of my family. But yeah. Veronica and I- we were closest in age, and Mama used to say we shoulda been twins. She was a couple of years older, but she was my best friend growing up. There’s no childhood memory I have that doesn’t have her right there next to me.”

“Two of you? Scary thought.” Lance glares at Keith but it doesn’t stand a chance against small tilt at the corner of Keith’s lips. That look is nearly devastating and Lance has to blink away the image, forcing himself to stare at the ceiling instead.

“That’s what everyone in the family used to say,” Lance concedes and grins at the chuckle he gets out of Keith.

There’s a beat of silence and then the sound of shuffling, then the dip of the mattress as Keith stretches out onto his side next to Lance. Lance fights himself to keep his eyes firmly on the ceiling but he’s never been the best at impulse control so instead he turns his head to find Keith _right there_ and has to keep his breathing in check.

“They’d be proud, you know,” Keith tells him quietly and Lance swallows hard at the sudden swell of emotion that washes against him.

“Yeah, I know. I just wish they knew I was- that I’m-” He can’t get out the words _I wish they knew I’m alive, at least_ because it’s the thought that keeps him up most nights and he hates giving it life by speaking it aloud. Even the thought causes a heavy, wet warmth to pool behind his eyes and his chest feels tight with it. It’s always a surprise, how hard it hits him- it’s always there, hidden somewhere between his heart and lungs, and when he gives it even an ounce of thought it steals his breath away.

Keith doesn’t say anything; there’s nothing he can say, Lance thinks, because he knows it’s not something Keith can relate to. He followed the only family he has left up into space, while Lance left his millions of miles away. Instead, though, Keith shuffles a little closer and his fingers brush against the inner part of Lance’s arm and Lance drags in a breath. He exhales shakily before flipping himself over to face Keith.

“You okay?”

“As okay as any of us are, I guess.” Lance lets out an unsteady breath, unable to bring himself to be embarrassed at slipping so much in front of Keith. Keith, who looks a little lost at how to help but he’s still _there_ and there’s a soft set to his eyes that Lance can’t process. “But um. Could you-” Lance stops himself, flushing at the question at the tip of his tongue.

“Can I what?” Keith asks, and Lance can’t look at those eyes when he finishes-

“Could you, ah. Stay?”

Keith gives him a confused little laugh. “Sure, I mean I figured I would like I did-”

“No, um,” Lance figures if he’s made it this far he might as well make himself clear, fingers gripping the blanket beneath. “Can you stay _here_?”

Keith blinks at him for a minute before Lance can see it click in his eyes. “Oh. Um, yeah, Lance, I can do that.”

Lance exhales the last of his anxiety, something warmer replacing it in his chest because Keith said _yes_. He said yes and he didn’t question why Lance wants him to sleep next to him, and maybe- maybe Lance can just play it off as just needing comfort after thinking about his family, if he does ever ask, but for now Lance doesn’t care. Because Keith said _yes_.

Lance manages to get them under the blanket without meeting Keith’s eyes because he’s pretty sure he’d combust if he did. He’s a little torn at how much space he’s supposed to give Keith because what’s a platonic amount of space between two bros sharing a bed, anyway, when Keith answers the question for him and shuffles close; Lance freezes as Keith gets comfortable on the pillow Lance is using before he thinks, _well okay, then_ and reaches out a hesitant hand between them and tangles his fingers in Keith’s shirt.

“Thank you,” Lance breathes out, and Keith only hums a little before letting his eyes droop and the last thought Lance has is that he’s not felt this safe since they left Earth and Hunk is going to kill him for not seizing the opportunity.

 

* * *

 

He’s right, too; when he recounts the night before to Hunk the next day, dramatically strewn across Hunk’s bed and bemoaning why feelings have to be so hard, Hunk only shakes his head on a soft and mystified, “ _Oh my god you two are so dumb_.”

 

* * *

 

It’s a week later when they stop at another planet to solidify an alliance. Hunk had been giving Lance pointed stares the entire morning, which Lance had been _pointedly_ ignoring, because this was the exact setup he and Pidge thought would be best for Lance to “make his move.”

Lance, however, has a deep pit of unease growing in his gut from even the thought of telling Keith how he feels. There’s just way too much going on lately- they’ve been working with the Olkari on a plan that might actually work against Zarkon, Keith has been so _comfortable_ around him, and he doesn’t want to risk messing anything up; it just doesn’t feel right to tell him right now. They have enough to worry about to add Lance’s feelings on top of everything else.

Hunk thinks he’s being ridiculous. He tells him as much, too. “Dude, you’re being ridiculous.”

“Thanks, man, I appreciate the feedback,” Lance groans, eyes following Keith as he walks beside  Shiro while they all get introduced to the rebel alliance they came here for.

“No, I’m serious. Think about it, Lance- we very well may actually face off against Zarkon in the next coming weeks. This is dangerous stuff, man. As much as I hate thinking about it, much less talking about it, there’s the very real possibility that we won’t make it out of any of this, right? How would you feel if something happened and you never told him?”

Lance’s stomach drops, finally tearing his eyes away from Keith’s back to hang his head. “You’re right, I guess. I wouldn’t… I don’t think I could stand if…”

“Exactly. So come on, Pidge and I were needling Coran for info about this planet and apparently they’re known for this area in the mountains that have these massive fields of flora and it’ll be _perfect_.”

“Are you sure this is going to work?” The look Hunk gives him has him raising his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. It _will_ work. I got it.”

All in all, it doesn’t actually take much to convince everyone to take a hike up to the fields. Hunk casually mentions that Coran had talked about it, and then Coran lights up and the job is basically done for them. Apparently the fields are used as a place for meditation and even Allura thinks it’s a good idea to visit and “gather themselves in such a revered place.”

So they start their hike after most of the pleasantries are exchanged, some of the leaders joining the excursion; they were charmed that the paladins of Voltron were so interested in a place of such significance for them, and Lance actually feels kind of guilty that the only reason it was even brought up was to set up his silly confession.

A chill still runs down his spine at the thought, a small shiver running through his limbs. Keith looks over to him questioningly, one eyebrow raised. “It’s this mountain air, man- gets a little chilly.”

Keith walks a little closer to him at the admission without a word and Lance’s stomach flips. “I still have a hard time believing Pidge was on board with this whole thing,” Keith says after a few paces, hand brushing against his own.

Lance almost forgets how to talk but manages to get out, “I don’t think they were too willing, to be honest.” Lance omits the part about the only reason they were tagging along was to follow through with their promise to help Hunk.

The path before them is well worn and there’s a low hum of voices as everyone chats with the leaders that joined them. Keith hangs back with Lance, though, and Lance latches onto that thought to try to give him more courage when they reach the field.

It’s honestly breathtaking. The flowers are a mix between tall, blooming purples and winding magentas and they’re high up enough that the the field looks like it goes on forever, only giving way to the sky.

“Come, paladins- the meditation circle is just a little further in the main field.” Lynhu calls, voice warm and melodic.

Lance almost doesn’t catch the look Hunk passes to Pidge. “Oh, man! Lance, you look _beat_. Buddy, why don’t you just stay and rest here?”

Lance takes that as his cue and tries to fake some heavy breathing, flopping onto the ground. Keith shoots him a strange look at the sudden change and Lance has to avoid looking him in the eyes. “No, it’s okay guys, I’ll be fine. Just go on without me, I’ll catch up.” The rest of the team has stopped to watch the exchange, varying degrees of concern and confusion on their faces.

“No, dude, we won’t leave you alone. Hey Pidge, why don’t _you_ stay with Lance?”

“Oh no, but I just really wanted to see that meditation circle,” Pidge says in a way Lance is pretty sure is supposed to be convincing.

“I can stay with Lance,” Keith offers quietly, sending Lance a small smile. Lance grins back, burying the nervous energy trying to buzz its way through his veins.

“Oh, great, well, since that’s settled I guess we should get going. Bye guys, see you in a bit!” Hunk rushes out, pulling Pidge along and leading the rest of the group away. Lance watches as Lynhu has to hurry to catch up to show them the way.

Lance’s eyes are still watching them go when Keith plops himself down next to him, batting some of the taller flowers out of his eyes. “You really that tired?”

“Eh, hiking was never my thing. Plus, I like the view around here.” Lance waves the question off, trying to not draw any more attention to the _why_ of his actions. Lance works on popping off the chest plate to his armor, feeling too constricted; he isn’t sure if it’s because of the walk or because Keith sitting so close to him, but he finds it actually hard to breath all of a sudden. He tosses it to the side before dropping backwards into the flowers, landing with a soft _thud_.

Keith watches him for a minute before taking his off as well, dropping it into the grass beside Lance and falling back to join him. His hand brushes Lance’s again and Lance tries to hide the hitch of his breath. How is he supposed to confess _anything_ when even a simple touch takes his breath away?  

So instead, Lance puts the entire plan out of his mind and just lets them be; he blinks up at the cloudless sky, warming with the setting sun, letting the heat weigh down on his limbs and help steady him. Keith’s fingers twitch against his again and he takes a deep breath in, flipping over his hand in a silent offering. There’s a beat that’s nothing but the drum of his heart in his ears, and then Lance lets his breath go as Keith’s hand carefully rests against his own.

Lance thinks maybe- maybe he doesn’t need to say anything right now. This can be enough. _For now, this can be enough_ , Lance thinks as he brushes the tips of his fingers against the leather glove on Keith's palm, stretching each finger out and pressing them against Keith’s own.

They’re quiet for a moment, how it always starts between them- quiet, and then everything all at once. He enjoys the silence, enjoys the simple feeling of drifting his fingertips across Keith’s hand in random patterns until- “I’ve been thinking about what we talked about the other night,” Keith murmurs to the sky, and Lance thinks _called it_ before turning to face him.

One of the long purple flowers droops and almost touches Keith’s nose, and Lance snorts as he leans over to bat it away. Keith gives him a grin from below him that does things to Lance’s pulse. “Which night?” The reminder that yeah, Keith has been in his room more nights in the last week than his own is enough to slam that pulse into overdrive as he falls to his back again, if only because he can’t take that thought with Keith looking up at him like that.

“That night we were talking about family.”

Lance makes a humming noise to acknowledge him, picking petals off one of the flowers he’s laying on. “What have you been thinking about?”

“That I think it makes fighting easier.”

Lance huffs out a laugh, throwing the petals he’d collected right into Keith’s very unamused face. “What makes you think that?”

“Because when it’s hard to keep fighting, sometimes I think about the team and it gets a little easier. Thinking about Shiro… About you,” Keith adds so quietly that Lance isn’t sure if he’s supposed to hear it or not. He does hear it, though, and his heart beats wildly against his ribs.

It would be so easy right now- so easy to just reach over and connect their hands, to tell him. To say he thinks about Keith, too. To say he can’t stop thinking about him- to say anything. Lance opens his mouth and-

“Yeah, I get what you mean. Sometimes I think about my family when I can’t take all of this anymore. Sometimes it helps.”

“What do you think about?”

Lance hums, reaching his hands toward the sky and making a frame with his fingers, like it would help him picture his home a little better. “I think about Sunday breakfasts with the whole family. I think about the tire swing me and my siblings convinced our dad to make one summer. I think about the clementine tree that grows in the backyard, and how juicy that fruit was after spending all day swimming. The little things, I guess.”

Lance can see the way Keith watches his out of the corner of his eye. He lets his hands drop back down onto his stomach, the roll of memories fading out of his little frame and Keith’s voice easing in. “That all sounds really nice. Worth fighting for.”

Lance snorts, rolling onto his side. “Definitely,” he agrees, fingers twitching to reach out and brush Keith’s hair out of his face. It hits him that well, he probably _can_. So he tries his luck, fingers dragging through the loose tangles and Keith’s eyes drop closed. Lance lets out a sigh because it’s just too _easy_ between them anymore. “You know, I think I’d like for you to meet them someday.”

Keith’s eyes snap back open, finding his immediately. “Me?”

“Yeah, _you_ , dummy. Whaddya say? When we get back you wanna come visit?” It’s as close to a confession Lance is going to get, he thinks. At least for now, when the words are _there_ but they just- he just can’t find a way to get them to come out. He tries to let the invitation tell Keith the things he can’t yet.  

Keith’s eyes soften in the dying light, and Lance swallows hard at the nod he gives him. “I’d like that.” Then there’s a hidden smirk on the edge of Keith’s lips that Lance kind of really wants to taste. “I don’t think I’d have much of a choice anyway.”

Lance laughs, letting it diffuse the air between them and knock away his fleeting _want_. “You’re right, mullet. You’re coming whether you want to or not.”

Lance hops up, hearing the faint sounds of the group returning echoing through through the mountains. He brushes off his pants before offering a hand to Keith and pulling him up. Lance tries to ignore how close Keith is and instead turns to look at how the sky seems to melt into the field now, colors of the sunset blending into the edge of the field to look endless.

“Wow,” Lance breathes out, and Keith’s hand brushes his again. On a whim, Lance links their pinkies because he’s not entirely ready to let go of the moment. He couldn’t confess but he did get something, and maybe he could have _this_ too.

Keith seems fine giving it to him, giving his finger a gentle squeeze, eyes focused on the sky before them. “Do you think that Earth has anything like this?”

Lance breathes in the breeze that whispers through Keith’s hair, the wind almost chiming in a song against the mountain walls. “I don’t know. There was a lot I never got to see back home. I like to think it does.”

Keith turns to him, eyes too deep in the warm light. “I think there is too. There must be.”

 

* * *

  

Hunk and Pidge don’t let him hear the end of it on the way back to the castle; both of them are sandwiched on Blue’s screen, disappointed and explaining exactly why he should have just went for it. Lance just nods along until they finally dock at the ship, when they have to disconnect.

“Wish me luck, girl,” he tells Blue as he pats her in goodbye, knowing there’s just going to be more of the lecture when he reaches the bay. He’s right, too, because Hunk is there waiting for him.

“Dude.”

“I know, I know. I should have, I just. I couldn’t.” He doesn’t know how to explain how the words kept tumbling in his chest, how he wants so badly to say them but he just. Doesn’t know how. Nothing seems to hold the same gravity as those damn words, expanding and contracting and ever growing. He doesn’t know how to explain that it almost feels like he’s already said them, sometimes, in those soft moments between them- like they’re well-worn and settled between Keith and him. He doesn’t know how, but Hunk seems to understand anyway.

Hunk sighs, falling into step next to Lance to walk back to their rooms. “I get it. We shouldn’t have pushed you like that, anyway. We just wanted to help.”

“I know, buddy. I appreciate it, don’t worry.” Lance nods to him when they split ways, a twinge of regret burrowing in his chest and making a nest. He sighs, turning to go to his room when a tug on his hand startles him. He swings around, surprise melting into something softer when he realizes it’s Keith.

“Oh, hey man. You want to come in?” He nods back to this door, willing his heart rate to slow down.

There’s a determination in Keith’s eyes that Lance doesn’t know how to process. “Yes, I do.”

“Ooo-kay. Well, you’re always welcome to. I won’t even make you bring your blanket this time.” Lance grins as he follows Keith as he marches into the room, Lance plopping down onto the bed after shutting the door. Keith hesitates only for a moment before sitting down next to him, toeing off his boots and shimmying his jacket off his shoulders.

“Well, just make yourself comfy, I guess,” Lance tells him but there’s no heat behind the tease. Well, none besides the heat pooling in his gut at the sight of Keith actually being comfortable enough to settle in against his pillows.

“I want to stay here tonight,” Keith tells his firmly, but there’s a hesitancy in his eyes that Lance doesn’t understand.

“Yeah, man, of course you can. Anything on your mind?” Lance asks because there’s something in the way Keith is moving that tells him there’s something right there, right under the surface that Lance can’t quite figure out.

Keith hesitates a moment, searching his eyes, and Lance tries to silently encourage him to talk about it by settling in next to him. The pillows are wedged a little uncomfortably between them, but he doesn’t mind when the closeness seems to ease some of the tension in Keith’s shoulders.

“Just… Everything, I guess. Thinking about what the Olkari are supposed to be making. It’ll turn the tides of the war, that’s for sure.” Keith tells him finally, but it doesn’t feel like the truth. Lance doesn’t prod him, though, instead nodding along and letting Keith talk out the possible scenarios of how they’ll use the secret weapon in the making while his fingers tap an erratic beat against Lance’s knee.

 

* * *

 

Time isn’t something that is easily tracked in space, but Lance is pretty positive it must be at least past one in the morning because this stupid of a decision can only be excused by an ungodly hour of the night. He’s not _exactly_ sure how they went from barely-there talking about the upcoming mission to Keith pressing him down into the mattress with such a welcomed heat Lance is pretty sure he’s going to combust any second, but he’s just about too far gone to care.

He’s pretty sure it started as soon as Keith had walked through the door, determination in his eyes and it makes Lance’s stomach sink low at the realization he was determined to end up here, like this. He was determined to seek this out, something Lance had been too scared to do in the field earlier that day. It almost seems less real than it did earlier; the night has a magic about it that strips away the hesitancy he had from that morning, eyes tracking the way Keith’s fall half-shut as he leans closer.

Keith’s breath on his lips is the only permission Lance needs to tilt his head just enough to- _huh_. Keith’s lips are more chapped than Lance thought they would be, but he can’t remember why he thought anything else would suit him, anyway; all of Keith is chapped, rough and frayed at so many edges but so soft and absolutely _raw_ underneath that Lance sometimes aches for him. Keith must ache for him too, because there’s a low whine deep in his throat that Lance inhales like the breath he lost as soon as Keith pressed into him harder.

For all Lance pretends to know about romance, actually being in the middle of probably the hottest kiss of his life makes his brain short circuit; e _verything_ about Keith seems to do that to him lately. His hands hover over Keith’s hips, twitching to pull him closer but he doesn’t know what’s _okay_ anymore. He had just barely gotten used to the fact he _could_ touch Keith, could reach out and take that physical comfort without worry of how it would be received, but touching him while _kissing_ him seemed like an even more foreign territory.

“Lance-” Keith starts, pulling away only just enough that Lance can see how wrecked even the _start_ of a kiss has him, “why are you just- god, Lance, just do something with your _hands_ , jesus.” There’s a groan of frustration behind his words but it’s mixed with something Lance has only felt on the latest nights they’ve stayed up together- something warm but hungry, insistent in its ache.

So Lance feeds it, fingers immediately clinging to the back of Keith’s shirt, pulling him so close that he can _feel_ the breath get knocked out of Keith’s lungs and onto his lips. Keith falls to his forearms above Lance’s head and- _damn_ , Lance didn’t realize what a kink it was to be so completely pinned down by someone else but he sure as hell did now.

“Like that?” He teases, but it doesn’t have the effect he wants since it comes out more breathless than cocky which, okay, embarrassing.

“You’re the _worst_ ,” Keith mutters, but Lance can’t bring himself to believe him when his mouth drops to his neck in a nuzzle that’s more teeth and tongue than Lance can actually _handle_ and he gasps, arching up into the touch. Keith’s mouth gets dislodged from his neck at the movement, but the half-lidded look he’s giving Lance is enough to make him go pliant beneath him if it means he’ll just keep _going_. “ _Jesus_ , Lance. You’re so…”

“Hot? Sexy? Amazing?” Lance fills in for him, using the few seconds Keith’s mouth is nowhere near his skin to gain control of himself because seriously, it’s getting pretty mortifying how much he’s into this.

“ _Gorgeous.”_ Keith breathes out, and Lance doesn’t even have time to blush _because_ _seriously what even_ before Keith’s fingers are dragging over his hip and encouraging him to lift himself closer and by god Lance can follow a good idea when he sees one. Lance manages to get his arms around Keith’s neck, crashing their lips together in the middle of a gasp at the push of their bodies so close.

Lance can feel the months of confusion and tension and figuring things out balloon in his chest, pressing at his limbs to hold tighter this weird certainty between them in this moment. He doesn’t know what they’re going to do with the aftermath, with the pieces if this breaks, but right now he’s sure that they both are feeling the same things; for once Lance meets his feelings head on, embracing the swell of affection he has for this stupid, brilliant boy with every press of lips.

Lance wants so much, wants everything he hasn’t let himself think too much about for the last few months that he feels overwhelmed; he wants to convey everything he doesn’t know how to say with this kiss, but the weight of that urge nearly breaks him out of the moment.

“Stop it,” Keith mumbles against his lips and Lance freezes, hyper-aware of everywhere he’s touching Keith to try and figure out what he did wrong.

“Stop what?” Lance’s fingers twitch where they’re gripping at Keith’s shoulders, fabric bunched tight in his grasp.

“Overthinking.”

“I _wasn’t_ -” Lance starts, but he loses steam at the huffed out laugh against his mouth.

“You were. So stop it.” Keith doesn’t say anything else and Lance wants to protest more, but the look Keith is giving him makes the complaint go dry on his tongue. The look contains all the intensity Lance has seen inside Keith before, but he’s still not used to it being directed at him; that fierce stare is usually reserved for battles but now it’s funneled into something more gentle and Lance nearly suffocates in the warm tension that flickers between them.

It only takes a few seconds under that stare for Lance to feel the slow burn creep into his cheeks, wanting to break eye contact but finding himself unable to even blink. Every inch of him feels _way too alive_ and it’s absolutely mortifying how much this is affecting him. His fingers tighten against Keith’s shirt, trembling just enough Lance is sure he must feel it. He feels too exposed underneath him, like Keith can see every truth Lance hasn’t wanted to believe these last few months and the seconds feel like they’re spilling secrets Lance doesn’t even have yet.

Keith’s eyes search his for a beat more, breath still a little ragged and lips still parted, before he’s suddenly surging forward again with a renewed vigor. Lance thinks he lets out a strangled sounding _Keith_ but isn’t honestly too sure if he imagined it or not, too consumed by the fervor of Keith’s mouth against his. All of the anxious pressure leaves his mind at the surety in the way Keith kisses him, a devastating heat spreading under his skin at every touch.

Lance tangles his hands in Keith’s hair on a whine he will _never_ admit to making, pressing as close as he can manage and then pressing even closer. He can feel Keith’s breath stutter against his lips, his own answering grin almost smug until Keith lets out a low groan that slams against Lance’s lungs and makes his heartbeat trip. But then Keith’s knee is slipping between his own and the hand on his hip turns so possessive that Lance does actually choke on a cry that’s more desperation than any actual words.

“ _Fuck_ , Lance-” Keith breaks the kiss on a gasp, head falling forward onto Lance’s collarbone where he can feel the frantic, humid breaths through the soft fabric of his shirt and against his skin.

The sound of their labored breathing reverberates off the silent walls, filling the space and sounding _way too loud_ in Lance’s ears but he doesn’t even try to compose himself or calm his breathing. He’s too disoriented at the sudden loss of heat against his lips, trying to process the last few minutes and failing because there was just _too much_.

“I don’t know what I’m doing.” At first Lance thinks he must have misheard the hot confession against his neck, but the tense bunching of Keith’s shoulders betrays the insecurity and Lance lets out an incredulous laugh. When Keith doesn’t move or elaborate, Lance nudges his face against the top of Keith’s head gently.

“Gotta admit, it seems like you know what you’re doing just fine from my position, buddy.”

Keith huffs out a laugh against his neck, nuzzling closer when that elicits a shiver from Lance. “I didn’t mean like _that_. I just… Us. This. I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve never felt- no, god, that’s too stupid.”

“Were you about to say you’ve never felt this way before?” Lance barks out a laugh at Keith’s answering grumble, only stopping when Keith gives a playful nip to the sensitive skin at the dip of his throat. His laugh turns into a sharp gasp, and he almost hates the way he can feel Keith smirk against his skin. Almost.

“I just… I didn’t know how to say anything. I couldn’t find the words- I’ve never been great at words. But I could show you.”

“I was trying to tell you today, you know. That was the plan. But I couldn’t find the words either.”

Keith huffs out a laugh, nosing against Lance’s neck. “I could tell. That’s what gave me the courage to… To come here.”

“I’m so glad you did.”

Keith’s grip on his hip finally loosens, hand trailing so lightly up his side that Lance holds his breath at the touch, settling in to cup the other side of his neck as Keith turns his face to breathe him in. The entire movement is just so soft and intimate that Lance practically melts, fingers curling at the base of Keith's neck and dragging him closer. The tension from the kiss finally seeps out of his bones, leaving him heavy and exhausted against the mattress.

Lance can feel Keith’s breath more than he can hear it now, air warm and comfortable between them as they both unwind from the palpable tension. One of his hands drifts down Keith’s back, fingers drawing lazy shapes in the fabric of his shirt. Keith droops against him on a quiet sigh, body curled against his in a way that still faintly drives Lance crazy but is mostly just comfortable. He lets himself ease into the embrace, exhaling the last of the energy that had previously thrummed through his veins.

Lance thinks Keith might almost be asleep when he gets the courage to whisper, “I haven’t either.” Keith’s questioning hum vibrates against his chest, and Lance stares at the ceiling as if it will make him keep his nerve. “Felt this way. I haven’t ever felt this way before either.”

Keith stiffens, and Lance can feel him holding his breath. “It’s a little scary… Isn’t it?” He finally whispers back, so softly Lance almost misses it.

“A little, yeah. But also… Not? It’s more… Overwhelming.”

“Yeah, that sounds about right. Though… I find it’s not as overwhelming as I thought it’d be. And I think that’s because, well. It’s you. I think it feels right... Because it’s you.” Keith’s voice presses against his heart, and Lance doesn’t quite know what to say because nothing seems to have the same weight as the words that hang in his chest. “But it’s still something I’ve never felt, so I just… Don’t know what I’m doing yet.”

Lance swallows, fingers gripping tightly against Keith’s back. “We’ll figure it out.”

Keith is quiet for a moment, and all Lance can hear is his own heartbeat in his ears. “We will. I know we will.” The words are so delicate Lance doesn’t want to say anything that could break them, but in that moment, he believes in nothing more.

 

* * *

 

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Lance can’t hear what Keith says but he can hear the pounding footsteps chasing behind him, and a laugh bubbles in his chest as he runs and he finally feels lighter. No, it’s not perfect- but it’s going to be enough.
> 
> It’s going to last them through tomorrow and through this war and then Lance is going to do whatever it takes to keep this unbelievable boy chasing him."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the wonderful Benni (@oikwatru.tumblr) convinced me to split this chapter in half since 1) it was taking me forever to finish and 2) it had a natural end I was ignoring since I really don't want to change how many chapters this is going to be again. So I don't know if this is going to end on 7 or 8 chapters yet but either way- here's chapter 6! I hope y'all enjoy, and sorry it took so long to get out!

 

* * *

   

 _i feel it in my chest, know i won’t let this blue flame die_ \- surefire, john legend

  

* * *

 

Lance decidedly thinks that waking up in the castle is a lot more tolerable when he’s waking up next to Keith. Yeah, sure, he already knew that from having Keith crash on his floor a few times, but it’s nothing compared to waking up to the warm weight of him against Lance’s chest and fingers buried in the hair at the nape of Lance’s neck to keep him close.

Lance risks waking Keith up to grab his tablet from the cubby above them, snapping a picture of the way Keith’s face is nuzzled against his neck because _how in the world is he so perfect._

“Is that going to be a thing with you?” Keith’s voice rasps against Lance’s neck and Lance freezes from being caught, dropping the tablet on the bed next to them. Keith huffs out a low laugh, the puff of air raising the skin under his lips and Lance shivers.

“Just trying to get proof last night wasn’t a dream,” Lance half-jokes, hand sliding from the curve of Keith’s waist to his shoulder, thumb absently rubbing circles into the skin underneath the sleeve of Keith’s shirt.

Keith hums, and the vibration passes through his lips to right against Lance’s pulse where he presses a light kiss. “I don’t know if I’ve ever had a dream good enough to compare to last night.”

“ _Dude_ , I thought you said you didn’t know what you were doing with this.”

Keith laughs, the sound rough from sleep but warm and full against Lance’s neck. “I told you I don’t.”

“Are you just naturally good at saying romantic shit on the fly, then?” Lance asks with a challenge in his tone, rolling them over quick enough that he can pin Keith beneath him. His hope was that it might be easier to think without Keith’s lips so close to his skin but nope, definitely not; the sight of Keith smiling up at him that softly, with _just_ an edge of mischievous cockiness to warm every nerve in his body, proves it was a terrible plan.

“If it’s to you,” Keith says lowly, and Lance thinks maybe he’s feeling just as warm if the look in his eyes is anything to go off.

“You’re ridiculous,” Lance tells him, but he’s already leaning down to taste Keith’s answering grin and it gives him a little thrill that he _knows_ what those lips are going to feel like yet he’s still excited to feel them agai-  

“Paladins! Please report to the common area immediately.”

“Are you _serious_ ,” Lance groans at the sound of Coran’s voice booming through the intercom, dropping his head against Keith’s collarbone. Keith chuckles, cupping the back of Lance’s neck and giving it a soft squeeze.

“C’mon, we should get up. We’ll have plenty of time later to pick up where we left off.” Keith’s breath is right against Lance’s ear and his heart trips over itself at the thought; that there’s a _later_ , an _after_ to this- that Lance would be able to come back to it, and it would be waiting for him.

“Only if you promise.” His tone suggests it’s a joke but the weight in Lance’s chest aches for this solidarity.

Keith’s answering chuckle does nothing to detract from the warmth in his eyes as he pulls Lance toward the door. “I promise, Lance.”

 

* * *

 

 It turns out Keith can’t actually keep his promise; Allura announces that the Olkari need scaultrite for the teludav they’re building, and they’ll need to split up so that Lance, Pidge, and Shiro can rescue some genius.

“I don’t like this. I don’t like not going with you,” Lance whispers as Keith hugs him tight in the bay before they all leave for their own missions.

“I’ll be fine, Lance. Hunk and I, we’ll- We’ll be okay, I promise,” Keith tells him firmly, pulling back only far enough to rest his forehead against Lance’s.

“That’s two promises now, Kogane.” Lance tries to will away the pit of unease settling in his belly. It’s too soon after everything happened; they haven’t even talked about any of it. That _after_ seems a lot further away when a mission is thrown between now and then.

“I have a lot more promises for you than that, Lance.”

Lance can’t help but laugh, a nervous sound bubbling out of his mouth but it helps him feel a little more normal, because Keith is always so effortless and Lance kind of wants to hate him for it but he really, really doesn’t. “You better come back so you can keep them, then.”

“I will.”

 

* * *

 

Lance tries to not let whatever going on between him and Keith effect the team during battle, but he can’t help the way his nerves buzz under his skin until he’s docked back on Olkarion and practically sprinting out of Blue to find Keith after the tussle with the Robobeast. His heart is pounding in his ears until he spots Keith emerging from Red, head swiveling around before stopping on Lance. Lance finally lets himself breath deeply again, heartbeat calming the closer he gets to Keith; he doesn’t even slow his stride before he reaches him, just using the momentum to lift Keith off his feet and into a too-tight hug.

“I _really_ didn’t like that, just for the record.” Lance’s voice is muffled even to his own ears but he’s not willing to unbury himself from Keith’s neck, and he’s pretty certain Keith is just as reluctant to unwrap his arms from around Lance’s shoulders.

“I’m fine, Lance.”

“ _Now_ you are; it drove me crazy the entire mission wondering if you were going to come back, that I wasn’t _there_ to ensure you did.”

“We won’t always be able to be paired for missions, you know. You can’t let that distract you.”

Lance huffs, setting Keith down but his hands are reluctant to stray from Keith’s sides, fingers twitching against his armor in a rhythm-less beat. “I know that, dude. I’ll have you know I was so _not distracted_ that it was _my_ shooting skills that saved our mission.” Lance lets himself feel a little pride at the way Keith’s look turns fond before continuing, a little lower, “Worrying about you is just going to happen, though. Can’t stop me.”

“So, is this a thing now or…?” Pidge clears their throat and raises one bored eyebrow at them when they turn to see Pidge and Hunk watching them.

“Oh yeah, totally a thing. Keith told me _all_ about it.” Hunk says with a conspiratorial grin, and Lance is close enough to see the flush on Keith’s cheeks at the tease.

“Dude, you talked to Hunk about us? That’s so sweet.” Lance says, grinning when Keith pulls away from him with something suspiciously close to a pout on his face.

“What else were we going to talk about? It was a long mission!”

“Mmhm, sure. I believe that.”

“Now you’re the one being ridiculous,” Keith mumbles and Lance laughs.

“What a softie, man. This just keeps getting better.”

“I’m having my regrets with each passing second.”

Lance taps his chin, humming thoughtfully before breaking out in a grin. “Nope, don’t believe you. You’re totally _soft_ for me, you don’t regret shit.”

“Well I, for one, am starting to regret every decision that lead me to this moment,” Pidge sighs, pushing up their glasses. “I thought your bickering was bad? Flirting- way worse.”

Lance props an elbow on Keith’s shoulder as Keith crosses his arms. “I dunno, I’m liking this flirting thing way more. Feels a lot more productive.”

“Productive?” Hunk asks, face apprehensive as if he isn’t sure he actually wants to know the answer.

It’s just the opening Lance was looking for though, his grin turning sly. “Yeah, since I think it’ll get me a lot further lat-”

“And we’re done now.” Keith steps out from under Lance’s arm and Lance stumbles forward. “I’m going to go find Shiro for the debrief- and don’t you even dare comment on that one, Lance.”

“Aw but _babe-_ ”

“ _No_.” Lance pouts at the shut down, scuffing his boot on the ground but following anyway.

Hunk and Pidge’s snickers trail after them.  

 

* * *

 

One by one, they all find each other after the debriefing. Lance doesn’t think it’s quite on purpose, but he knows if the others have even half of the anxious energy he does buzzing around inside him, then they were all looking for something they weren’t going to find tonight but company was the next best thing.

They’re all still staring out at the dying light of the sun and the laughter from reminiscing is already fading as the hefty realization that tomorrow they very well may defeat Zarkon hangs in the air; and if they do, well. Voltron was made to defend the universe, and the universe’s greatest threat will be defeated. It’s a heavy possibility, but it also lifts them with the scariest hint of hope they’ve had since joining this war. Most of their thoughts are with their families; whether on Earth, lost to the stars, or just lost from time, and the thought of reaching them again once the battle is won settles between all of them.

Lance leans back on his hands and tries to sneak a glance up at Keith, leaning against a pillar and looking at the sunset like he’s not really seeing it. He wonders what it must feel like- to be so close to the path that might lead to finding out about the family he thought was gone. Keith’s mouth is set in a purposeful frown, and Lance aches for him; for what he’s lost, for what he still has to find.

And Keith might have been right; this is a little scary, feeling so much for someone. Lance doesn’t know how to filter and channel the things that seem to come to life around Keith. It’s all too new and nothing about their circumstance is normal, and there’s something more fragile about the consequences of it all. Lance tries to not let himself feel so much so quickly, because he doesn’t know how he’ll mend himself back together if this breaks him.

Something about it all makes Lance feel like the last thing Keith would do is break him, though. They’re partners, and that trust is deeper than the whisper of fear that tries to breeze through him.

“Well, I think I’m going to go get some food. Pidge? You want to come with?” Hunk’s voice breaks Lance’s concentration and with a jolt Lance realizes he had been staring at Keith for way too long. Lance quickly whips his head away from Keith to where Hunk had stood up and started dusting off his pants. Hunk eyes him as he straightens back up, amusement telling Lance he’d noticed the creepy staring. Jerk.

“Yeah, food sounds good. I want to go over the specs for this teludav one more time with Coran, too.”

Shiro pushes off the pillar he had been leaning against. “We should all probably get some food and rest. Tomorrow is going to be a big day.”

Lance chances one more look up to Keith, cheeks warming when he realizes Keith had already been looking down at him. “I think I’m gonna stay out here a bit longer.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Shiro looks between them before shaking his head, and Lance swears he sees a glimpse of a smile before he turns. “Okay, well, you two don’t stay out too late.”

Lance bites his tongue on an _okay, Dad_ quip and if the humor in Keith’s eyes is anything to go by, Keith knows exactly what Lance was about to say. Lance watches him for a minute, not really knowing what to say but enjoying the way Keith looks focused again, like he’s back in the moment and not lost in whatever thought the future gave him.

There’s a beat more between them before Lance finally makes himself break the trance, patting the floor next to him and waving his arms out in a flourish. “Care to join me on this fine evening?”

Keith rolls his eyes but drops down to sit next to Lance anyway, very poorly hiding the small smile at the corner on his mouth. “Is this the part where you ask me if I come here often?”

“No, this is the part where I ask you if you want to come here often,” Lance tells him with a grin and a wink, relaxing with the easy way it still feels between them; he may not know what it is exactly between them, but it feels more solid than it did when they were dancing around each other.

Keith lets out an honest to god snort and Lance lights up because that’s _fantastic_ and he files that information away for later. “You know, I probably should have expected all the come ons but I thought that maybe you wouldn’t lay it on so thick if you already had me.”

“One, babe, you’re making this way too easy for me- I could make like seven jokes minimum off what you just said,” Lance starts matter-of-factly, grin still in place. “And two… _Do_ I already have you?” The last part comes out a little softer than he intends, looking over at Keith out of the corner of his eye.

Keith shifts and Lance can feel their shoulders brush. “I thought that was kind of obvious.”

Lance picks at his jeans, drifting his eyes back to the sky as the stars take over. “I mean, I know you want to kiss me, obviously. And I don’t… I don’t think that was a one off. Unless I’m completely off base, but it definitely didn’t feel like you had wanted it to be just-”

“It wasn’t just a one off, Lance.”

Lance takes a breath and nods. “Right. But like. So what does that mean? For us? Is this an _us_? Are we, I don’t know. Dating?” His voice goes quiet, and he doesn’t like how vulnerable he has to be for this but swallows it down and finally looks over to Keith properly.

Keith sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t think I’d call it that.”

It isn’t what Lance is expecting to hear, but he pushes past the initial feeling of hurt since they’re already having this conversation and Lance isn’t sure if he can stop it now that it’s began. “But you said it wasn’t just a one off. You’re not making any sense, dude.”

Lance watches as Keith closes his eyes and snaps his mouth shut, muscle in his jaw twitching as he grinds his teeth as he thinks. There’s one, two, _three_ breaths before Keith opens his eyes again. “I mean, can you really call anything we can do while in space, fighting an intergalactic war, _dating_? We can’t take each other out, we can’t just go off any time we want. We can’t _date_ , not in the normal sense.”

Lance tosses his careful words back and forth, hating that yeah, fine, okay- all of that is technically true. He doesn’t like admitting Keith is right on his best days, and especially not when he wants Keith to be wrong about something this badly. His mouth clicks shut when he realizes it’s hanging open on an argument he doesn’t know how to make.

“See? You know I’m right.”

“But what does it matter? So what if it isn’t normal dating? I still want- I want…” Lance trails off, frustrated, because he does _want_ but he doesn’t know what it is exactly he wants or how to get it.

“Exactly! What does it matter? Why do you want to call it dating so badly?”

“Because I-” Lance groans, dropping his head in his hands and swallowing thickly. This isn’t exactly how he hoped this conversation would go, but whatever. He should be used to it by now; everything with Keith lately has gotten to be so much- he’s felt so much around him, and Keith forces him to actually face those feelings whether he’s doing it intentionally or not.

“Why, Lance?” Keith’s question has softer edges this time, less tinged with frustration and more trying to understand why Lance is so insistent. Lance breathes in the marked effort and appreciates it; he tries to let it ground him.

He breathes out and peeks out toward Keith, still half hiding in his face in his hands. “You know, I’m so used to the rejection part of this whole feelings thing that it’s still surreal to me that you want me.”

Keith looks a little confused at the admission but keeps his eyes firmly on Lance and the look feels heavy on his skin. Lance reaches out between them and Keith’s hand is already meeting his halfway, giving him his fingers to run his own against to distract himself from the words that burn with embarrassment on his tongue.

“So… I guess, I mean it’s possible that I might want something between us to be a little more solid because- well, because I want you to want all of me. Not just parts of me. And that might sound needy or whatever but if you haven’t realized that about me by now-”

“Lance.”

“I’m just sayin’, I know I’m a lot to handle but-”

“ _Lance_.”

“And maybe I’m just having some real self discovery or whatever but I don’t want something that’s empty. I need the whole package and-”

Keith squeezes Lances hand before using it to pull Lance down so that Keith can roll and lean over him. “Did you have that rehearsed?”

Lance huffs out the breath that’s practically knocked out of him, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks as he refuses to look up at Keith. “Shut it, okay, no. I just- I felt like it needed to be said.”

“Do you feel better after saying it?”

“I’d feel better if you felt the same way.”

Keith sighs and blows the hair out of his face and _damn it,_ he’s not allowed to do something cute when Lance is trying to be mad at him. “I didn’t say I don’t feel the same way about you, Lance.”

“But you don’t want to date me.”

“I didn’t say that either.”

“Okay, you’re gonna have to spell this out for me, Big Boy, because I’m obviously not getting this whole hot and cold schtick you have going on right now.”

Keith rolls his eyes and Lance focuses very hard on glaring at him because if he doesn’t, he’s going to notice how the stars are starting to come out and how the moonlight does some really nice things to Keith’s dark eyes.

“I want to date you, Lance. I want to take you out and go to stupid diners with you at stupid hours of the night. I want to do all the stupid couple-y shit I have never understood with you, because I know you’re probably really into that kind of stuff.”

“Then why-”

“Stop, you said yours. Let me say mine.”

Lance huffs but nods for Keith to continue.

“We _can’t_ do all of that stuff though. We’re in space, Lance. We can’t go on _dates_. I’m not going to call it dating when I can’t _date_ you. When I can’t do it right.”

“So, you _want_ to do it right?”

Keith nods. “I told you I do _want_ to date you, stupid. But we don’t know how this war is going to go. We don’t know what’s going to happen after tomorrow. If we win- you’re going to go back to your family, and I… I’m going to try to find mine. That’s a little harder than a long distance relationship, don’t you think? I don’t want you to be tied to something like that. You said it yourself, you need the whole package.” The look in Keith’’s eyes ask him to understand something Lance doesn’t even want to think about, so Lance just stares up at him in defiance.

There’s a few beats of tense silence and Lance feels a hot weight build in his chest at the unfairness of it all. What the hell, he finally finds someone that wants him- someone he _wants_ so bad he can’t see straight, and there’s literally a war keeping them apart. He’s pretty sure it’s some kind of poetic shit that can go find another pair of star-crossed lovers to burden, thanks, and he can’t help but think his sister would actually simultaneously cackle at his luck and spoon feed him ice cream in solidarity if she could see him now.

Lance swallows thickly and Keith’s eyes track the movement and his gaze softens. Lance kind of wants to hate him for it, his teeth grinding with the effort to keep his jaw from trembling. Keith finally pushes up and off him and Lance takes his time sitting up, fingers digging into the ground next to his thighs. He keeps his eyes firmly on the skyline in front of them.

Keith reaches out and squeezes Lance’s hand, pulling his stiff fingers away from the ground to rest in Keith’s lap instead and as much as Lance wants to pull away, he can’t help but hold onto that small contact tightly. Keith squeezes his fingers again a few times until Lance finally gives in and looks over at him and he almost regrets it as soon as he sees the look in Keith’s eyes.

Keith’s stare is insistent when he finally reiterates, “And I can’t give that to you. Not right now. I’m sorry, Lance.”

“So what now? We just go on like all that didn’t happen? Is that your way of ‘figuring things out’? Gotta say, bud, that’s a way suckier ending than I had hoped.” Lance all but spits out, that wet heat building in his chest and threatening to spill out of his eyes but he holds Keith’s stare out of spite because damn it, if he’s going to cry Keith is going to know it’s his fault.

“Why does it have to end, though? We’ve been good- _this_ has been good. Just because we’re not calling it anything doesn’t mean it has to be nothing.”

“I didn’t picture you for the friends with benefits type,” Lance tells him a little bitterly.

Keith smacks his shoulder lightly. “That’s not what I’m saying. I’m just saying I’m not going anywhere. I’m still going to be here, and I’m still going to want you. I do want all of you. I want you so badly sometimes I wish we had never come to space, I had never dropped out of the Garrison, that I could have found you there.”

“I don’t think that’s how that works,” Lance tries to joke but it falls flat, the rawness in Keith’s voice causing him to start winding down from all of the indignation he had felt and it leaves him feeling a little worn at the edges and definitely more than a little drained. Keith looks about the same, and Lance half thinks it’s because this might be the most he’s ever heard Keith talk at once.

Keith barrels on, seemingly on some roll and starting to get a little more animated, hands flying as he continues. “But when all of this is over and you’re back with your family, I don’t want you to feel like you’re going to be waiting for some space boyfriend to come back to Earth eventually. I don’t want you to go back home with one foot still in space, I want you to be able to live your life. That doesn’t mean that I don’t want to be a part of it. It just means that, well... ”

“It means this sucks. Our situation sucks.”

Keith laughs, the sound a little hollow, and roughly wipes at the corner of one of his eyes. “Yeah, it means this sucks. This is why I was so afraid to even start anything in the first place.”

“Yeah, well, it’s already started. And I really, really don’t want it to end.”

“I…” Keith starts, fingers still wound tightly around Lance’s, “I really don’t want it to either. You deserve more than what I can give you right now. But I don’t want to give up whatever it is we _can_ have right now.”

“You deserve more too, you know.” Lance squeezes Keith’s hand, pulling it up to his lips with more gentleness than he feels at that moment. He’s buzzing with an anger; anger at how much sense Keith is making, anger at their situation, but he mostly just feels tired, because as soon as he got used to the idea of having something he wanted so badly it’s getting yanked out of his grasp. He’s just so tired of losing to the world.

“Sometimes I feel like you’re the only thing that’s keeping me sane out here.” Lance looks at him over his knuckles and Keith’s eyes are paying rapt attention to the connection of Lance’s lips to each one of his fingers, his voice as quiet as a prayer.

“How can you still go and say things like that after everything we just said?” Lance asks him, shaking his head and dragging his lips over the back of Keith’s hand.

“Our situation doesn’t change the way I feel about you.”

Lance wants to laugh because even when Keith is telling him how they can’t be in a relationship, he’s still the smoothest little shit Lance has ever met and it’s not fair. Everything Keith says makes Lance just… Fall harder, as much as he doesn’t want to admit it. Especially with their circumstance so thoroughly laid bare in front of them, Lance doesn’t want to think of how perfect Keith is and how he always says just the right thing to make Lance’s breath catch.

He doesn’t want to think about it, but it is their reality. At least for now, they have to live with it and they have to make a decision no matter how hard it is.

Lance takes in a shaky breath but blows it out with more confidence than he actually feels.

“I know you don’t want to call it dating, and I guess I can see why now. But this,” Lance gestures between them with their joined hands, “this is good. I haven’t felt this good since we left Earth. _We’re_ good. And that’s not going to just go away no matter what we call it.”

“No, it won’t,” Keith agrees quietly. “What do you want to do, then?” His voice is small but hopeful and whatever weak resolve Lance had when he started steels because he can’t let Keith down with that kind of voice.

“Compromise. We don’t have to call it dating. We don’t have to call it anything. But it is something. Right?”

“Yes, this is something.”

“Nothing has to change for now, then. We’re still partners; we’ll work this out one day at a time, but we both have to be open to whatever that next day brings. Okay?” Lance turns his head toward Keith, holding his breath a little and only exhaling at the small nod Keith gives him. It may not be all that Lance hoped it would be, but it is something. Keith is close to something he can call his, and they might not know what will happen tomorrow, but they’ll have each other’s backs either way. And that’s enough for now.

It has to be enough for now.

“Now,” Lance clears the emotion out of his throat, jumping up and dusting off his pants, “if we’re going to possibly die tomorrow, don’t tell me you wouldn’t love to know if we can get away with a little dip in one of these Olkari lakes.”

Keith eyes the hand being offered to him warily, a glimpse of humor trying to fight its way through the heaviness of the night. “You know they probably have some high-tech nano-whatevers that will be watching us.”

Lance gives him a devilish grin, “Then let’s give ‘em a show.”

Keith rolls his eyes but clasps Lance’s hand, letting himself to be pulled up a little too hard to tumble him close into Lance’s arms. “You’re the worst.”

The words ghost over Lance’s lips and he breathes them in, leaning in just enough that their mouths barely brush. “I don’t believe you, Space Cowboy.” The maneuver Lance has to pull to dodge Keith’s indignant swat should earn him a medal.

Lance is already sprinting away and can barely hear the growled out, “Don’t call me that!”

“What was that, buddy? I can’t hear you! You gotta giddy up!”

Lance can’t hear what Keith says but he _can_ hear the pounding footsteps chasing behind him, and a laugh bubbles in his chest as he runs and he finally feels lighter. No, it’s not perfect- but it’s going to be enough.

It’s going to last them through tomorrow and through this war and then Lance is going to do whatever it takes to keep this unbelievable boy chasing him.

 

* * *

 

The small, empty _he’s gone_ still hangs in the air as they all surround the black lion’s pilot seat. Lance’s mind rushes to process the last few moments of battle before it goes blank at what he’s staring at, or rather who he’s _not_ staring at because Shiro is _gone_ . His mind can’t reconcile how five minutes ago his team was celebrating and within the last five seconds his team has been split apart because _Shiro is gone_.

This isn’t right. Of course is isn’t right, but Lance’s brain absolutely refuses to compute that what he is seeing is what reality actually is and he can feel the panic rising in his chest before his eyes dart to where Keith is kneeling where Shiro _should_ _be_ and he sees the way Keith’s back is rising and falling faster and faster and Lance realizes he has to calm down because whatever he’s feeling, Keith is probably feeling it ten times as strong.

Lance’s hand hovers over Keith’s shoulder but before he can make contact Keith shoots upright, eyes hard but frantic.

“Coran! Is there a way to trace where he went? Some type of heat signature or something?”

Coran blinks away from the empty space where Shiro should have been, an uncharacteristically heavy set to his mouth.

“Not by heat signature I’m afraid, my boy. We’ll do what we can, though- Number Five, Hunk, I’ll need your help!”

Both paladins immediately follow after Coran, the feeling of raw nerves still buzzing in the hangar in their wake. Lance watches as Keith’s gaze stays on their retreating backs, fingers clenching and unclenching and eyes distant.

“Keith,” Lance starts gently but it still jolts Keith and he jerks, spinning to face Lance with a wild look. Lance knows if Keith doesn’t _do_ something soon, whatever _something_ he ends up doing will probably be stupid. “Keith, c’mon. Let’s hop in Red and search the surrounding area.”

Keith looks a little startled at the suggestion but it calms some of the vicious energy circling his eyes. “We’ll cover more space if we both take our lions.”

Lance shakes his head a little, the thought of Keith alone right now in a lion facing the enormity of space is the last thing he wants. “I don’t think that’s a good idea right now, bud.”

Keith bristles, some of that energy immediately turning into anger. “I am perfectly capable of-”

“Yeah, I know, I know. I don’t think I can be alone right now, though.” Lance tries to placate him, and it helps cool Keith down just a bit before Lance adds, “Do it for me. Please.”

Keith stares at him hard for a few breaths and Lance prepares himself for an argument. Something shifts in Keith’s eyes suddenly, though, and Lance releases the tension in his shoulders. Keith finally nods, fingers grasping his helmet tightly before shoving it on and heading for Red determinedly, Lance following after with a small prayer to find Shiro soon.

 

* * *

 

They don’t find Shiro soon. They don’t even find Shiro relatively soon, or within a reasonable amount of time. No, days pass and Lance watches as more and more of Keith gets left behind. It’s worse at night, Lance thinks, when they’ve exhausted another day and have nothing to bear for it.

“You up?” Lance whispers into the quiet of Keith’s room, knowing the answer. Keith has been sleeping less and less, a fitful companion at night with his too-still posture that definitely means he’s awake and trying to not toss and turn.

His question is met with Keith turning on his side and shuffling closer, nosing himself under Lance’s chin at the first sign of Lance being awake too. Lance lets him burrow close, arms loose until Keith gets situated and then he holds tight.

“Did I wake you up?” The question is barely above a breath, and Lance knows it’s because Keith has been thinking too much again and can hear the watery edges of the words.

“Nah, I just wanted you closer,” Lance half lies, because he doesn’t want Keith to feel like he needs to stop coming to him at night. Lance may be losing a little quality of sleep now, but he knows without Keith beside him he wouldn’t be able to sleep at all. He has to be able to feel him close, he has to know he’s- he just has to-

Keith gives a half-hearted snort and Lance’s thoughts start to slowly ease. “You’re a terrible liar.”

“Mmm, not a lie. Like being able to hold you,” Lance mumbles, using the arm under Keith’s neck to pull him closer and bury his nose in his hair and dispel the sudden panic building in his chest. The holding him part is true, at least; Lance has been trying to deal with the anxiety that apparently the people he cares about can just _go missing_ in space, because isn’t _that_ just actual nightmare fuel, and has been a little more clingy toward all of the team lately.

Keith has been spending all of his waking hours searching for Shiro for the last week and a half, but he’s beside Lance at night and at least here Lance can reach between them and know he’s safe. Keith is alive. He’s here. He’s not-

Keith’s fingers tighten around the collar of Lance’s shirt, head dipping a little closer into the side of Lance’s neck and Lance breathes deep again. It’s okay. He’s okay. He has to stay okay. There’s a few beats of silence and Lance wonders if Keith actually fell asleep, but knows better from how tense Keith feels in his arms, from the way his fingers keep gripping Lance’s collar every now and then.

“Do you think we’re going to find him?”

The question is so small but it’s heavy enough to break Lance’s heart.

“Hey, man, of _course_ we are. We’re not going to give up on Shiro, Keith; we’re going to find him.”

“He’s the only family- I can’t, he’s...” Keith trails off, his voice distant and a little lost. Lance wants to tell him that they’re his family too, that they’re there, that _he’s_ there; he knows that’s not what Keith needs to hear, though- knows that there’s nothing he can say that’s going to actually make any of this okay.

None of this is okay. He’s not going to be able to make this okay. But Keith is with him, trembling and broken and lost and his voice sounds like he’s asking Lance to know the way and Lance knows he doesn’t.

Helpless, Lance just holds Keith tighter.

 

* * *

 

  


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “This isn’t what I want.” Lance says, because he feels like he has to say it or it’ll be stuck in his throat all night. 
> 
> Keith looks down at him, and Lance can barely see his eyes through the thick veil of Keith’s bangs. “I know it isn’t. I’m sorry, Lance.” 
> 
> When he leaves, Lance tries to tell his hammering heart it isn’t for good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was a hard chapter to write. And it's probably gonna be a hard chapter to read, not gonna lie. It will get better though. I don't have the constitution to keep my boys sad for long. 
> 
> Also, speaking of length, some of y'all might notice I definitely changed the number of chapters again lmao. I am Weak. And bad at planning out chapters. Anyway, I am like 94% certain it will end at 8 chapters but since I've changed it twice now I don't trust myself anymore lol. 
> 
> Last but not least I just wanna thank both [Benni](http://oikwatru.tumblr.com//) and [salineshots](http://salineshots.tumblr.com//) for keeping excited to write this story. And of course everyone who reads this. I love hearing from you and knowing that people enjoy this.
> 
> Also, just throwing it out there, but I could really use a beta for this story and possibly the sequel. If there is anyone interested feel free to comment or shoot me a message at lvnce-mcclain over at tumblr. I’m always down to beta fics in exchange too!

 

* * *

 

_Can't keep this bed warm on the left side_

_When something is cold as a goodbye - surefire,_ john legend

 

* * *

 

They run out of leads. Allura suggests they consider moving to a new quadrant where there’s been some heavy Galra activity so they can continue the mission while they wait on word from the hundreds of messages they’ve sent out to their allies for any sighting, any _anything_.

“I know you don’t want to leave, Keith, but we’ve exhausted our resources. We need to keep moving.”

“We haven’t finished with this area,” Keith tells her tersely, and Lance can see the twitch in his jaw from how hard he’s clenching his teeth.

“It’s been weeks, Keith. We have to keep the mission in our minds.” Allura’s voice is gentle but firm and Lance almost flinches because he knows it’s going to set Keith off; Lance can almost feel the abrupt spike in tension radiating off Keith.

“What about keeping _Shiro_ in our-” Keith starts, but the bay door quickly sliding open cuts him short. They all look toward the sound and Pidge is there, their laptop balanced on one palm and frantically pushing up their glasses with their other hand as they run toward them.

“Guys! I did it! I finally got the algorithm working!” Pidge says breathlessly, holding the laptop up triumphantly as they skid to a stop beside Lance.

They all three blink at Pidge blankly.

“You know? The algorithm to find Shiro?” Pidge supplies slowly and Lance shakes his head.

“Wait, what? You can _make_ that?”

“I’ve been telling you guys about this for the last week, do you literally ever listen to me?” Pidge huffs out.

“Dude, you’ve _literally_ only been talking in half-sentences and mumbles all week, no one has been able to understand you,” Lance fires back and sticks out his tongue at the glare Pidge gives him.  

“Either way, this is fantastic news, Pidge!” Allura claps, but Keith interrupts her with an impatient growl of frustration.

“Yes, it’s great, fantastic, but how does it work? What do you mean it can find Shiro? Do you know where he is?”

Pidge falters, nudging their glasses higher up their nose. “No, I don’t know where he is… Yet. But this- it will scan all nearby radio signals for any of the trigger words related to Shiro.”

“That means it would be best if we cover as much area as we can, correct, Pidge?” Allura asks pointedly and Lance can nearly feel the way Keith bristles next to him.

“Yes, the more area we can cover the better. I can only search signals within a certain radius, and while it’s a pretty generous radius, it would be advantageous to cover has many quadrants as possible.”

There’s a tense moment, the air stifling as some internal war burns inside Keith- Lance can see the beginnings of battle scars start to form in Keith’s eyes as he stares right past Allura’s shoulder. Pidge shuffles uncomfortably, gaze drifting between Allura and Keith and before finally settling on Lance with a lost look.

Pidge clears their throat. “Uh, guys, did I-”

“Fine. We leave- but only after Pidge can run this scan for our area.” Keith’s tone has a challenge at its edges and Lance turns to Allura, silently pleading her to take the compromise.

Allura meets Keith fiery gaze cooly and Lance swallows. “Deal.”

Keith continues to stare for a second longer before nodding tersely and turning to leave the way Pidge came. Lance lets out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding, eyes closely briefly in relief.

“Thank you, Allura. He’s just- he’s…”

“We’re all worried, Lance. I know.” Allura’s hand is a soft weight against Lance’s shoulder and his own hand reaches up to meet hers, a grateful smile curving his lips.

“I’ll go find him. Thanks for the update, Pidge.” Lance gives Allura’s hand a squeeze and a nod to Pidge before heading off toward the training room.

 

* * *

 

Sure enough, Keith is letting out his frustration with well-aimed but chaotic blows against some training bots. Lance isn’t surprised, even if the sight resonates a deep panging in his chest. Keith still hadn’t been able to quit his habit of working himself to death when he doesn’t know what else to do and Lance thinks it’s probably a tendency he’ll never be able to shake. Lance doesn’t try to join him this time; even from this distance, he can see the force behind each hit and knows this isn’t the kind of sparring he needs to take part in. This needs to be between Keith and whatever Keith sees when his fists connect with that metal. Instead, Lance settles in against the doorframe and waits.

He tries to keep himself from getting lost in Keith’s movements but Lance has always had a hard time not being mesmerized by the quick movements and dodges executed with an expertise he’s been trying to imitate for far longer than he would like to admit. Tonight isn’t a time for admiring Keith’s form, though; Lance sees the frustration grow every time Keith’s movements become more chaotic, more brutal- this isn’t helping Keith tonight, it’s just fueling that anger into a firestorm and Lance winces as a final blow lands and the bots power down, leaving Keith half-slumped with his arms limp at his sides, breath heaving from his chest and bangs sticking to his forehead with sweat.

Lance pushes off the door frame after a few more seconds pass by and Keith doesn’t look up- whether he doesn’t notice Lance or is deliberately not noticing him, Lance isn’t sure. Either way, Keith doesn’t look up until Lance is in front of him and pushes those sweaty bangs out of his eyes, and even then Keith only spares him a second-long glance before his gaze skitters off to the side.

“Hey, Space Cadet.”

Keith puffs out a breath that could maybe pass for a laugh. Lance waits but gets nothing else, so instead of trying words again he rolls his eyes and grabs Keith’s hand.

“Lance, wha- no, wherever it is, I don’t want to go,” Keith tells him, a drag in his step, but Lance ignores him and tugs harder. If Keith didn’t want to use his words before, he isn’t going to get to use them now. The destination is barely half-formed in Lance’s mind, only knowing he needs to get Keith out of the training room before he leaves more broken than he went in. It isn’t until they are about to pass the elevator that Lance gets a plan and yanks Keith through the doors.

“Lance, I’m serious, I don’t-”

Lance squeezes Keith’s fingers and gives him a look that’s a lot more gentle than Lance actually feels; he knows anything Keith can take as a challenge right now will only fuel the defiance smoldering in his belly and Lance doesn’t have the energy to put out those flames tonight. “Just come with me, babe. Trust me. Please.”

Keith holds Lance’s stare with unreadable eyes, his chest rising once, twice, and Lance doesn’t know if he’s going to win this one. But then Keith exhales heavily and the fight leaves his shoulders and Lance knows he’s given in.

“That won’t always work, you know.”

Lance grins. “So long as it works tonight, Samurai.”

The door opens to the pool that’s hidden deep within the castle, and Lance flips the gravity switch that Allura had shown him after their last failed attempt to go swimming. As the water settles in, Lance turns to Keith and shuffles close, his hands easily finding their way to the hem of Keith’s shirt. His fingers twist the fabric as Lance eyes Keith from beneath lowered eyelashes.

“Is this okay?”

For the first time that night, Lance asks Keith for permission; even if Lance thinks this is what Keith needs to wind down, he doesn’t want to push him past any limits. They’d grown closer in the last few weeks since that first kiss, but there had barely been any other kind of physical affection between them since Shiro’s disappearance. Outside of the sleeping, of course, but their nights together felt more like some kind of intangible intimacy that Lance can’t put a name to. Lance still doesn’t know what kind of limits lay between them, and even if tonight isn’t just some ploy to get Keith shirtless, Lance needs to know Keith’s okay with everything.

There’s a beat of silence before Keith’s fingers skim over his own and Lance can feel the brush of Keith’s hair as he nods next to Lance’s shoulder. Lance hesitates only a second before pushing his hands up under Keith’s shirt and tugging it up and over his head, dropping it next to them on the floor.

Keith lets out a low exhale and Lance follows the movement with his fingers, slowly- shakily- skimming over the soft skin of Keith’s belly as his hands fall back down to rest on his hips. Lance thumbs at the edge of Keith’s jeans, a stutter in his heart and strain in his lungs because he wants so badly to have that solid confidence back right now. He wants to know exactly where he stands with Keith and what he can do- how far he’s allowed to go with these indefinite lines defining their relationship.

For a small, nasty moment Lance is thrown back to the Garrison and he’s chasing after Keith again; he’s unsure of himself and his place and knows he can never exist beside Keith as his equal. Only it’s worse, because Lance has a taste of what it’s like to feel like to stand beside Keith- he knows the rush of having all of Keith’s attention focused on him, knows the deep bloom of pride that reflects off the corners of a smile he’s the cause of. He knows it all and it fills him up every single time and he knows he can’t lose it.

And then Keith’s fingers are gently wrapping around Lance’s forearms and Lance can breathe again. Keith’s forehead drops against Lance’s shoulder and Lance pulls him fractionally closer, hands drifting to Keith’s back and holding on. He can feel every shaky exhale against his palms and he knows that Keith is just as unsure as he is half the time; they’re taking this in with every new step, but they’re taking those steps together.

“We’re not skinny dipping, are we?” Lance can feel Keith’s lips move against his shoulder and lets himself smile.

“Only if you want to, babe,” Lance tells him on a soft laugh, anxiety easing out of his lungs with every breath, and trying to not let the idea interest him too much. “You may want to drop those pants though- don’t think they’d be too comfortable in the water.”

Keith snorts and moves back to unbutton his jeans, and Lance quells the small flare of anxiety that stems from not having Keith so close- skin to skin, within reach. He knows it’s irrational and forces himself to step back, even if his eyes want to stay glued to Keith, which proves to be its own struggle.

Lance has to force himself not to watch and instead begin his own undressing because this is _not_ meant for him to be able to admire Keith in various states of undress, damn it. This is supposed to be cathartic for Keith, to be something for him to relax with and not destroy his muscles in the process. The image of Keith’s fingers playing with the button of his jeans just needs to _go_ , thanks.

Lance kicks his jeans off from around his ankles and hurries to the pool before his imagination gets any more fuel but immediately regrets it when he turns to see Keith bent over and stacking his jeans on his shoes, more skin showing than Lance has ever seen on him. His heart does a hard _thump_ against his ribs as his mouth goes dry at the sight of Keith walking over, eyes still simmering with some of that residual challenge pent up inside him and meeting Lance’s stare unabashedly.

Lance dunks himself under the water.

When he resurfaces, pushing the dripping hair out of his eyes with a deep breath for air, Keith is sitting on the edge of the pool and the water is lapping at his knees. Lance wades over to him, feeling a lot more stable from the shock of cool water.

Keith splashes a handful of water towards him as Lance starts to tread water a couple feet away. “Why did you drag me out here, Lance?”

Lance splashes back. “A guy can’t want to go swimming with his not-boyfriend without being questioned?”

Keith’s face colors a little at even the mention of the b-word and Lance can’t help but feel a little vindictive joy at it. “Some guy? Sure. You? No.”

“Maybe I just wanted to get you undressed,” Lance shoots him a leer and laughs when Keith kicks some more water at him. He grabs hold of Keith’s foot and lets it pull him back toward him, floating with Keith’s leg as he moves it to and fro slowly.

“You usually do.”

“Fair enough,” Lance laughs and doesn’t say more, almost hoping Keith would be distracted enough to forget the original question.  

“So why tonight?” Keith pulls Lance toward him and keeps him there this time, calves wrapping loosely around Lance’s middle. Lance switches his hold from Keith’s leg to hooking his elbows over Keith’s knees, propping his chin up over his crossed arms and looking up at Keith. The water laps against Lance’s sides as Keith’s feet circle a few half-shapes in the water behind Lance’s back. The movement gives him a little time to stall, but he still can’t bring himself to admit it.

“You know why. You don’t have to try to drag it out of me.”

Keith hums. “I don’t normally have to.”

Lance doesn’t give him the satisfaction of answering, instead letting the water and Keith’s legs sway him while he hides his face against Keith’s thigh. He isn’t going to push this conversation, because he knows Keith is just looking for a reason to give him another _I don’t need to be coddled, Lance_ lecture and really, Lance is just trying to help. The lecture can shove it.

“Right after my dad died,” Keith starts, softer than the sounds of water against Lance’s skin, “I didn’t expect much out of life. My dad was my whole world, and then… We’ve lost people our battles, but we haven’t lost a whole world.” The words sound rough against his throat and Lance stays as still as he can, afraid any acknowledgement of the words might make them disappear.

Keith takes a minute to keep going, nothing but quiet between them, until Lance is almost startled at the feeling of fingers against his hair. The touch is soft, tentative, and Lance lets out a breath. Keith’s fingers sift through the hair beginning to dry against Lance’s forehead, pushing it back and then just softly running through it. Lance leans a little more into the touch.

“I didn’t know how to rebuild something like that. Didn’t know if I wanted to. I would always push anyone that got too close away, because I didn’t want anyone settling into something shaped like a foundation. They all let me, too. All of them, except Shiro.”

Lance shifts, something in Keith’s voice growing more tangible, and looks up; Keith is staring at his hand sifting through Lance’s hair, and it takes him a second to register Lance’s gaze. When he does, though, Lance’s heart breaks. “I know he’s… Special to you.”

Keith laughs, but it’s hollow. “He was everything to me, for a while. Didn’t exactly replace what I lost, but he showed me how to have _meaning_ again. Not just meaning in my life, but how to make _myself_ mean something. He taught me so much, and only because he never gave up on me.” The words _so I will never give up on him_ are left unsaid, but are still the heaviest words hanging in the air.

“We’re not giving up on Shiro.” The firm steadiness in Lance’s voice surprises him, but he can’t let Keith think for even a second this team is going to let go of their leader that quickly. He can’t let Keith think he’s alone in this struggle.

Keith holds Lance’s stare for what stretches into a silent eternity, before he breaks it suddenly and moves his fingers through Lance’s wet hair once again. “I know,” Keith says, the words barely above a whisper. His thumb traces along Lance’s temple and Lance’s eyes close briefly at the touch. Keith clears his throat and a little stronger he says, “I do know that. It just- it doesn’t feel that way when we’re leaving here without him.”

Lance doesn’t know what to say to that isn’t a repeat of the same _we’ll find him,_ _we’ll find him, we’ll find him I promise_ mantra he’s been chanting to Keith for weeks. So instead he pushes back into the water, tugging playfully on Keith’s legs. “C’mon, man, you need to get your mind off everything.”

Keith shakes his head, hands gentle but firm as he pries Lance’s hands off his calves. “Look, I… I really appreciate, uh- this. I know you’re trying to help. But I really don’t feel like it. I think… I think I’m just going to go to bed, okay?” Before Lance can try to persuade him, Keith is already up and shaking off the excess water from his legs.

“See you back in your room?”

Keith pauses putting his shirt back on, jeans hung low on his hips, before tugging it over his hair quickly. His voice sounds apologetic, but his eyes look far off when he says, “No, that’s okay. You relax in here, okay? I’ll stay with you tomorrow.”

That nasty little feeling starts nagging at the edges of his heart but Lance tries to make sure the hurt doesn’t show through his words as he says, “Okay… Okay, yeah, totally.” But Keith is already half out the door, leaving Lance feeling colder than he did a few minutes ago.

 

* * *

 

Keith does find him the next night, but it’s after Lance has already fallen asleep; fitfully, at least, trying to wait up but eventually just accepting Keith isn’t going to stay with him for a second night in a row.

Lance sits up on one arm, wipes his eyes blearily and mumbles out a rough, “Keith?”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.” Keith barely gives him a glance as he toes out of his shoes before climbing into the space Lance makes for him in the bed.

“‘S’okay, didn’t mean to fall asleep. Blade?” Lance asks around a yawn, settling in against Keith’s back. He noses against the hair at Keith’s neck and can tell Keith didn’t stop for a shower before coming to find Lance; even if it’s a little gross, Lance can’t help but feel a little soft at the thought Keith wanted to come find him as soon as he got back to the castle even if he didn’t stop to tell Lance he was leaving in the first place.

“Yeah, wanted one last go with the local Blades before we leave the area. Still no sign.” Lance lets out a sigh into Keith’s hair and Keith stiffens just a bit. “Sorry, probably stink. Didn’t stop by the showers.”

Lance smirks a little, eyes drifting shut and close to sleep again, and nuzzles a little closer. “Yeah, but I don’t mind.”

“You’re so weird.”

“Weird for you.”

Lance’s drapes his arm over Keith’s waist and pulls him close by his chest, ready to fall back asleep, but Keith is just a little too stiff in his arms; there’s a rigid hold to his arms, even as one hand comes up to clasp at Lance’s against his chest. His breathing is just shy of regular, like he’s trying hard to convince Lance he’s comfortable and close to sleep.

Lance hesitates a minute before whispering, “You okay?”

He can feel Keith stiffen more before forcefully relaxing his limbs. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Lance, I’m sure. Just drop it, okay?” Keith snaps on a rushed breath and Lance pulls back a fraction.

“Hey, woah, dude. I was just checking on you. You didn’t seem okay, that’s all.”

Keith sighs and sits up, dislodging Lance’s arm and running one rough hand through his hair. “I just-” He sighs again, this time more of a huff of breath than anything more substantial. “I’m not okay, alright? You know I’m not okay. I don’t know why you have to ask.”

Lance blinks at him, arm still half reaching out from where it had been holding Keith a moment ago, but then Lance drops it as he realizes how stupid he looks. “Uh, because I care about you? I know you’re not okay in like, the general sense, Keith. I meant- you know what I meant. Why are you being like this?”

“I’m not _being like_ anything.”

Lance manages to resist rolling his eyes, and he should honestly win a goddamn peace prize. “You know that’s not true.”

“You seem to know more about what I know than I do tonight, Lance,” Keith scoffs out and rubs at his temple, fingers too rough to really be soothing. “Listen, I just wanted to be with you tonight. I didn’t come here to be interrogated, Lance.”

Lance holds in the affronted sound that just about escaped his throat, so make that _two_ peace prizes. “When did asking if you’re okay become an interrogation?”

Keith doesn’t answer but instead starts getting out of bed and reaching for his shoes.

“Wait, Keith, stop. I’m just trying to have a conversation with you-”

“I don’t want to have a conversation right now, Lance!” Keith’s voice is a harsh whisper, like he’s trying to tamper his temper, but it still cuts through Lance; Keith hasn’t used that kind of tone with him in months and Lance had blissfully forgotten what it sounded like. “I just wanted to come be with you because no, Lance, I’m not okay, and I just wanted to _not think_ . I didn’t want- I didn’t want _all this_.”

The fight in Lance deflates as his desire to avoid confrontation rises and he can’t help the small recoil that pulls him away from Keith. “Okay, Keith, I’m sorry… I get it, we can just sleep-”

Keith sighs, pulling his hands through his hair a few times back and forth. There’s a frustrated sound in the back of his throat when he finally looks back at Lance. “No, listen, don’t be sorry.” The words almost sound painful for Keith to force out, but the look is genuine in his eyes. “You shouldn’t be sorry. I just- I don’t know if I know how to be around people right now. Sorry, I just-” Keith sighs and yanks on one of his shoes. Lance’s heart breaks just a little. “I can barely function right now, you should know that better than anyone.”

Lance swallows. “I know, I’m sor-”

“ _Please_ don’t finish that apology, Lance.” Keith’s hand stops from pulling on his other shoe to reach behind him and latch onto Lance’s wrist. His eyes stay stuck on the ground. “I don’t want to… To ruin _this_ because I don’t know how to… How to be a functioning _person_ right now. I don’t think I can lose you just because I lost Shiro, okay? So… I’m just gonna go.”

Lance lets Keith’s fingers slip through his own as he gets up.  Lance watches, almost numb, because tonight definitely took a sharp turn into nightmare territory; his fingernails dig into his palm, subconsciously checking to make sure this isn’t actually a bad dream. “This isn’t what I want.” Lance says, because he feels like he has to say it or it’ll be stuck in his throat all night.

Keith looks down at him, and Lance can barely see his eyes through the thick veil of Keith’s bangs. “I know it isn’t. I’m sorry, Lance.”

When he leaves, Lance tries to tell his hammering heart it isn’t for good.

 

* * *

 

“It’s been what, two days now?”

Lance groans. “ _Three_ and please- don’t remind me.”

Hunk shakes his head at Lance, and Lance watches him upside down where he’s strewn himself across the kitchen counter.

“Number Three, you’re going need to move for just a dobash,” Coran tells him distractedly, moving through the kitchen with a big bowl of something Hunk had just been seasoning.

“Ugh, why is no one taking this seriously?” Lance nearly hits his head on the side of the counter when he flings his head back dramatically for, you know, effect.

“Because Number Four and yourself will work whatever this is out. Both of you aren’t strangers to the tiff or two, you know.”

Lance doesn’t even try to stop the eye roll and instead rolls his entire body with it, swinging himself around to sitting upright. “But Coran, this was _different_. You should have heard him, he was just… Angry.” Lance knows it’s not the right word but he can’t manage to find something to fit the look in Keith’s eyes better. It wasn’t necessarily angry at him, he knows, but just. Angry.

Hunk snorts. “Keith is always angry, Lance.”

Lance opens his mouth on a defensive retort but realizes that neither of them will understand the differences between Keith’s normal angry and this because they just- they don’t _know_ Keith the way Lance does. Still, he can’t help but pout a little. “Not always. And not like this.” Lance wraps his arms around his stomach protectively, if not a little petulantly, and scuffs one foot against the cabinet.

Coran sighs and finally sets down the bowl he was stirring and places one gentle hand on Lance’s shoulder. “Listen, Lance. Keith is going through more than we can imagine. Yes, we all miss Shiro terribly but Keith has taken it harder than any one of us. Wait, my boy, I know you know,” Coran squeezes his shoulder as Lance tries to interrupt and Lance’s jaw clicks shut, “but do you really know? Something like this, Lance, causes people to react in unexpected ways. Tragedy affects everyone differently. You’ll just have to give Keith time, my boy. This is still fresh.”

Lance’s shoulders drop a little under Coran’s palm and he pats Lance one, twice, and then pulls his hand back. “I know… I do know. It’s just hard when I want to be there for him, you know?”

Hunk nudges Lance with his shoulder as he passes by to grab the bowl Coran had been stirring, a kind look in his eyes. “And Keith knows that, buddy. He’ll come to you when he’s ready. You just gotta let him work through this in whatever way he feels will help first.”

Lance nods and watches as they get back to cooking, knowing they are both right but that doesn’t mean he’s happy about it. It also doesn’t make it easy, or hurt less, but he could try if it’s really what Keith needs.

 

* * *

 

It’s three days later when they hear word from a nearby star system of someone named _Li Antonnua_ which Allura tells them roughly translates to The Warrior; the algorithm Pidge set up included any incarnations of his old Champion title. After monitoring the signal that tipped them off, there were mentions of a stranger appearing in the city a few days back and single handedly tipping the scales in the rebels’ favor.

It’s not much to go off, but it’s the closest thing to a lead they’ve had since the disappearance and they’re all too nervous to let it give them hope. All except Keith, who is antsy the moment he latches onto the lead and wants to descend on the planet immediately. At one point Lance thinks he might need to camp out in front of the pods to make sure Keith doesn’t sneak out in one while they’re trying to plan their excursion, but Lance doesn’t know if he would even be able to stop Keith; they haven’t talked in six days, ten hours, and thirty-two minutes. Not that he’s counting, and not that he can feel every minute tick away under his skin like it’s trying to bury him in the weight of it, but you know. It’s been a while.

It takes a couple hours of planning- _arguing-_ who would be running the mission but in the end, it’s Lance, Keith, and Hunk leading a reconnaissance on the ground while Pidge keeps them updated in the Castle with anything new from the radio. It took a lot of convincing to get Allura to agree to let Keith come down and Lance felt as uneasy as she did with Keith on the ground; he knows the look in Keith’s eyes, and he knows it means Keith is getting just a little too desperate to make rational decisions. Lance also knows it would have taken the entire Altean military to keep Keith out of this mission, and he would rather have him in his sights than have him stewing up in the Castle. Still, Lance’s nerves are on edge and one eye is on Keith the moment their boots touch the dry and sandy dirt. It doesn’t help that the lions would be too eye-catching so they had to fly down in a pod; not even knowing the Castle is hovering nearby in the atmosphere is enough to help ease the itch under his skin.

“Okay paladins, this planet is used to travelers due to the trade route but that doesn’t mean take your disguises any less serious; Pidge will be monitoring any outgoing radio signals if you are recognized but still- stay inconspicuous.”

“Got it, Princess. In and out. We got this,” Lance assures her quietly though the small earpiece Pidge had given them in lieu of their helmet communicators, which were left behind in the pod. Their armor isn’t exactly the best attire for blending in, so they’ve donned some lightweight cloaks over top that would not look out of place when trying to avoid the desert sun that beats down on the trade town.

The location of the signals Pidge was able to pick up on is in the middle of the market in the town square; vendors push and pull from all sides of the market, pushing their wares in the personal space of anyone who comes close enough to grab a hold of. The atmosphere is so different than the last one they all visited; the flea market was packed, sure, but it felt warm and lively while this place just felt suffocating. Lance’s skin itches to get in and out, but he knows they can’t just make a beeline for the location as to not cause any kind of suspicion so he forces himself to loosen his shoulders and pretend to look at the other stalls with interest.

Hunk stops by one stall with several varieties of plump looking fruits, eyeing the golden and peach colors. Lance stops with him, one eye on the rest of the market while Hunk looks, but Keith is roughly pulling at Hunk’s elbow as he passes. “Hunk, we’re not here to _shop_ ,” Keith hisses low enough for them both to hear.

Hunk rolls his eyes, not being pulled anywhere. “Dude, chill. We’re supposed to blend in, right? What better way to not rouse suspicion than actually do some shopping?”

Keith nearly growls and Lance can see the way his fingers twitch against Hunk’s arm and the few looks that start to be thrown their way. Lance acts before he can think, the corners of his mouth pulling up into a fake laugh and tossing one arm over Keith’s shoulders, leaning low to whisper, “You’re starting to cause a scene. The goal is to not attract attention. Hunk is right, Keith. Calm down.”   

Lance can feel Keith stiffen under his touch and the small movement is enough to make Lance’s ribcage feel too tight against his heart. His grip on Keith’s shoulder falters but he keeps it there, unwilling to add to the scene Keith already caused. Lance feels the forced relaxation of Keith’s shoulder under his palm after a tense moment of consideration, his voice barely a huff as he releases Hunk’s arm. “Fine.”

“We’ll still keep it quick though, right, Hunk?” Lance adds for Keith’s benefit, letting his hand fall from Keith’s shoulder and taking no comfort in the closeness between them while Keith is stuck trying to not cause more ruckus by pulling away. The ache in Lance’s chest fills his lungs and he doesn’t know why there’s so much distance between him and Keith; their fight hadn’t been _that_ bad, but then again Lance has no idea what’s going on in Keith’s head so it could be something else entirely and that thought is enough to eat at the lingering thread of closeness Lance felt between him and Keith.

All in all, it only takes less than twenty minutes for them to strategically peruse the stalls in a way that would naturally lead them to the targeted spot and Lance has to force himself to not reach for Keith no less than six times. The tense set of his shoulders that Lance wants to smooth away, the hair that falls in Keith’s face that causes Lance’s fingers to itch at the desire to swipe it out of his eyes- he has to tamper it all down, the censoring of his actions stinging somewhere behind his eyes.

The plan to gain the trust of whoever it is behind the stall, to hopefully convince them to trade information on this new rebel hero, is brimming under the anxiety in Lance’s chest and he latches onto the mission to distract him as the three of them step foot beneath the heavy cloth curtains of the stall. The air is heavy and heated inside the tent and Lance tugs his hood down to rest on his shoulders when he realizes they’re the only ones in the space.

The stall has various goods that seem like they’re all from different origins; it’s a hodgepodge of items that barely look like they belong together, least of all create a cohesive market stall. Lance realizes that for a makeshift base of information trading, the actual items being sold probably aren’t the highest priority but can’t help but think the owner of the stall could at least put a little effort into creating a better illusion.

Keith and Hunk both tug down their hoods as well when Lance steps back from looking at the various trinkets, a little suspicious that no one is around to greet them. He shares a look with Keith, and for once his heart doesn’t squeeze at the look in Keith’s eyes because he knows they’re both immediately on the same page. The airy jingle of a chime from the back of the tent catches their attention, all of their heads swiveling to watch as someone emerges from the back curtain. Lance manages to control his expression as a half-galra steps out.

Logically, Lance knows that not all galra are part of the empire; they’ve all been coming to terms with that fact ever since Keith discovered his heritage, some easier than others, but the introduction of the Blade members to their list of allies has made the transition of mindset a little smoother. So while Lance rationally knows that an instinct to pull his bayard at the sight of the newcomer might be a little harsh, the vibe the half-galra gives off only reinforces the itch of his fingers to palm the weapon at his back.

“My apologies, I didn’t hear you enter. May I help you find what you’re looking for?” The lilt of the shopkeeper’s voice is pitched in a way that Lance supposes is meant to be trusting, but every instinct is trying to pull Lance away from him.

Hunk looks between them and Lance can see out of the corner of his eye the way Keith’s hand is twitching toward his hip. Quickly, Hunk steps between them. “What we’re looking for is less of an item, I’m afraid.”

“More of the intangible good,” Lance snaps himself out of his gut reaction, mentally shaking himself for showing too much of their hand. He tries to turn up the charm to make up for the slip, giving the shopkeep the most charming grin he can muster. He sidesteps Keith to join Hunk, his fingers brushing Keith’s as he passes out of habit. The touch seems to be enough to shake Keith, though, and he loosens his shoulders fractionally.

The shop owner’s eyes flit between them before a grin that’s a little too excited stretches across too-sharp teeth. “Ah, I see you heard about our little… Advertisement?”

Lance sees the way Hunk looks at him uneasily out of the corner of his eye, but he refuses to turn away from the stranger. “Seems like it. We’re very interested in your… Special.” Lance feels a twitch of fingers against his wrist as Keith steps up beside him. He doesn’t have time to appreciate the flicker of comfort before the shopkeep is talking again.

He claps his hands together and the sound is enough to make Hunk flinch beside Lance. “Well, you’re in luck- we’re always looking for more _patrons_.” Lance is quickly growing tired of the game the stranger is wanting to play. He’s feeding off the agitated energy Keith is radiating, vindicated in knowing he’s not the only one on edge in this presence. “Well, why don’t we take this conversation in the back where it’s a little more private.”

“I think we’re good right here.” Keith’s voice is an immediate answer to the request.

“I’m sure you can understand the need for privacy when discussing such a thing, my friend. Not everyone has an appreciation for such _sales_.”

Lance feels Keith bristle at the continued game and steps in. “We do understand, and we’d be happy to join you...” Lance trails off with an unspoken question.

The shop keep grins again. “Oh yes, where are my manners. My name is Koxan. Just let me close up,” Koxan says as he moves past them, picking up a sign and disappearing outside the tent only to reappear a second later, zipping the tent’s entrance up as he goes. “Don’t want any interruptions, you see,” he offers against their apprehensive gazes.

Lance nods in agreement, nerves jumping in time with his bruising heart rate. Koxan pulls the the curtain he had come from earlier back and holds it open, an expectant look in his eye, so Keith steps forward first and then Lance knows he has to follow.

It’s darker than the main tent and before Lance’s eyes can adjust, Keith lets out a shout and Lance feels himself being pushed back from the edge of something he was about to step straight into. Immediately, Lance’s guard is up and his bayard is already in his hand as he rounds on Koxan with a speed he didn’t know he had. It surprises Koxan as well, and Lance manages to catch him hard on the side of the face with the end of his bayard. The cracking sound of metal against flesh is still ringing in Lance’s ears when he sees the dark outline of Koxan rushing him, and Lance calls out, “Hunk! Get Keith!” before he feels the half-galra slam into him. Lance has to lean all of his weight into his bayard to keep from toppling over, sure his teeth are going to crack under the pressure of gritting them so hard, and he can’t hear Hunk’s response from the blood rushing in his ears.

“Who are you?” Koxan snarls out, and Lance can feel his hot breath on his face and grimaces.

“I feel like that’s a question I should be asking you,” Lance spits out right before he feels the displacement of air as Keith’s sword is cutting through the space between them and Lance jumps back just in time.

“What is this? You lure people out here with what, hope? Only to trap them? For what?” The anger in Keith’s voice is enough to keep Lance out of the way, reaching behind him for Hunk and finding his arm. In the dim light, he can see Koxan splayed out on the ground, a sword edge close to his throat. Keith’s boot is heavy against his chest and pressing harder when he doesn’t answer.

“Rebels sell for a pretty price to the Empire,” Koxan finally gasps out as Keith’s other boot finds his hand.

“So you kidnap people looking for peace and _sell_ them?” The horror in Hunk’s voice mirrors the disgust Lance feels building in his belly.

“Peace? These rebels aren’t looking for _peace_ , they’re just as bloodthirsty as your friend here-” Koxan’s words are cut off as Keith’s foot connects with the side of his head, which lolls limply to the side.

“Keith-” Lance starts but is cut off by Keith’s harsh command into their communicators.

“Allura, contact the Blades. They’ll have someone to pick up at our coordinates. It was a bust. Get him tied up.”

Keith is already leaving the tent as Allura’s follow up questions are blowing up their link.

 

* * *

 

“God _damn_ it.” The sound of Keith’s helmet ricocheting off the ground of the hangar, clacking abrasively as it rolls, drowns out the slam of Keith’s fist against the wall.

Lance tries not to flinch as the helmet rolls to a stop, standing close to Hunk and watching while Keith doesn’t move. His head is bowed in an angry defeat, back rising and falling heavily with each agitated breath and Lance shares a look with Hunk; both of them are lost as to what to say, the disappointment tangible between them as it grew in the silence of the pod on the flight back.

Each labored breath across the room pounds against Lance’s ears like drums, a guilty reminder that they’ve failed to find their leader with each beat. Lance opens his mouth to say something encouraging, but there’s nothing left in him to give and he hates himself for it just a little bit. Hunk clasps a warm, understanding hand on Lance’s shoulder and Lance leans into it.

“Keith, this isn’t the end- we’ll keep looking, we’ll-” Hunk starts softly, taking a step towards Keith but stumbling back when Keith suddenly rounds on him.

“We’ll what? Follow another dead end? Waste time when Shiro could be _dying-_ ”

“ _Hey_ ,” Lance cuts in sharply, “that is not fair and you know it.”

“Fair? What the fuck is fair in this situation? Do you think it’s _fair_ that Shiro is missing?” Keith turns his anger on Lance, and that’s better; Lance can take the heat on him. He can’t wring out any more hope but he can slip back into being fueled by this familiar heat in his gut, his indignation to keep Keith’s focus off Hunk moving him a few steps forward.

“Lance, it’s okay, don’t-” Hunk tries to say, hands up between them.

“No, it’s _not_ okay,” Lance spits out, eyes never leaving Keith even while an ugly heat pools behind them. “You can’t use that as an excuse for attacking your teammates. We’re all trying our best to find Shiro, not just you, _jerk_.” Lance carefully keeps his fists at his sides, even as Keith’s eyes flare and he takes a few strides forward and suddenly he’s there, right in front of Lance, and Lance does his best not to flinch at the fire in Keith’s eyes.

“Are we? _Are we_? I know Allura and Coran have talked about _contingency plans,_ ” Keith spits out the word like it’s acid, his words burning not only himself but Lance as well. He knows the hushed tones of _what ifs_ that have been circulating around the castle but none of them have actually been _serious_ . Coran and Allura- they’re just worried. And they way they worry is to _prepare_ , so Lance can’t begrudge them their plans. Because they’re not _real_ plans, they’re just there to… To…

Lance shakes his head, eyes hard when he finally clears his thoughts. “How dare you. We all are hurting Keith, I know _you’re_ hurting- but that doesn’t give you the right to make it worse by _acting like this_.”

Lance doesn’t recognize Keith with the amount of anger reflecting in his eyes and it goes straight through his heart when Keith says, “There you go again, trying to tell me how I feel. You don’t know shit about me, Lance, so just-”

“I don’t know _shit_ about you?” The laugh Lance lets out is drier than the Garrison desert and it scratches against his throat. “That’s a load of _bullshit_ and you know it, Kogane. I’ve tried being here for you but you don’t know enough about _yourself_ to let someone care about you the way I do.” The words cut like glass against his gums, and he has to swallow the urge to spit out the rest of the shards; all of his frustration is a weight in his lungs, forcing his breaths out in heavy pulls with every second that ticks by and there’s more Lance didn’t know he had built up but he keeps the words deep in his chest.

The anger in Keith’s eyes turns frigid and Lance knows he’s set Keith off more the moment the words leave his mouth, a flashback to their last argument flickering in his mind. The silence buzzes in Lance’s ears and he can’t tell who’s more angry at this point.

Finally, Keith takes a step back but his eyes stay locked in Lance’s gaze. “You don’t have to worry about that anymore, Lance.”

Lance freezes. “What does that mean?”

Keith scoffs, his hand roughly pulling through his hair and his eyes are wild when he says, “You’ve been so good at knowing what I know, Lance, I’m sure you can figure it out.” There’s a beat, then, “I’ll go brief Allura. Bye, Lance.” And then he’s turning and leaving and each step causes Lance’s breath to come hard, faster, and then he can’t breathe at all as the door slides shut.

Hunk is speechless, eyes flickering between the door and where Lance is frozen in place. “Lance, I…” He starts, but then Lance is falling forward on a sob and Hunk is there to catch him.

“Oh god, Hunk. How did it happen this way?” Lance coughs out around a gasp for air and Hunk just hugs him tighter.  

 

* * *

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I—we. The team, we’re always going to be here for you, Keith. If you let us.” 
> 
> Lance isn’t sure if it’s just him being hopeful or not but he thinks there’s a little regret there, too. “I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God y'all I can't even begin to describe how grateful I am to @froggyfroo like. Froggy has been the heart and soul of this chapter and she is such an amazing beta. Just watch me grovel at her feet for how great she is, seriously. She's the reason I've had the motivation to finish this fic at all, and so really this chapter and the rest of the series is just. Dedicated to her okay??? If you like this fic, thank her for keeping me going on it. Love you, frogs <3
> 
> I think the next chapter is going to be the last one for the first part of this series. I have three parts planned, and I'm really grateful to those of you who have stuck around this long and I hope you'll stick around for the next parts, too. Love you all.

 

 

 

* * *

  

_And oh my, oh my, oh my, oh my God_

_I'm so, I'm so, I'm so tired of fighting_

_Let go, give in, let go and give up_

\- john legend, _surefire_

 

* * *

 

 The hangar is quiet. The silence stretches between Hunk and Lance, but the sound of the door sliding shut reverberates in Lance’s head—over and over—a taunting loop playing over the sound of Keith’s anger. Lance can feel his feet go numb from where he’s fallen to his knees. The cold pinpricks crawling up his calves at least provide some sensation, where everything else seems to have been deadened.

Lance doesn’t know how long Hunk lets him stay there, immobile and in a state of complete disbelief. Lance idly thinks way too much time has passed from the way Hunk starts to shift restlessly—the soft shifting of Hunk’s weight from foot to foot, hands rubbing on the fabric of his pants, all too loud in the void of the hangar.  

“Come on, man, let’s get you to bed.” Hunk’s voice is soft, but it still jars Lance. His tears have long since dried up; violent sobs turned to dry heaves then finally to nothing at all. It leaves his throat aching and his eyes feeling too tight in his skull. He thinks maybe if he waits here long enough, when he does finally walk out the door, he might be able to walk back in time too.

Hunk gives him a moment—and when Lance can’t gather an answer in his chest and make it leave his mouth, Hunk pulls him up with one arm against his side and hefts Lance to his feet. The pinpricks drift down his calves towards his feet, making it hurt to stand, but Lance follows Hunk’s lead to the dorms anyway.

The hallway seems louder than the hangar. Their steps echo on the metal floor, pressing back in on Lance’s ears; it starts to get to be too much right as they near the dorms. The knotted ball in his chest starts to untangle at the thought of being able to crawl under his covers and hide from the world, giving him the only motivation he can muster to put one foot in front of the other. His mind is focused solely on getting out of the hallway. He feels too vulnerable; the space is too open, anyone could run into them— _Keith_ could—he makes himself stop. The thought of Keith throbs like an ache in his chest and he has to squeeze his eyes shut against the heat pooling behind them again.

There’s a wound in the middle of Lance’s chest, the edges raw and gaping and every drifting thought about Keith causes a fresh tear. The pain is nearly tangible, causing a falter in Lance’s step that makes him pull on Hunk’s hold.

“Hey, dude, we’re almost there, don’t worry—”

“Hey, there you are guys, Allura was—” The sound of Pidge’s voice causes Lance to avert his eyes, something ugly boiling in his stomach at the thought of someone else seeing him like this. “What the hell? I thought no one was hurt? Is he okay? What happened?” There’s a panic rising in their voice. The realization that he must look like absolute shit comes to Lance somewhere deep down. It causes the same boiling feeling from earlier to roll up his ribs and into his throat, and makes more of that wet heat burn behind his eyes. He squeezes his eyes shut, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides as fingers tremble.

“Shh, Pidge. It’s okay. He’s okay.” He isn’t. Lance is aware enough to know he isn’t okay, despite the fact that the only thing keeping him from feeling completely numb is the nasty heat running under his skin, threatening to boil him alive. “It’s… It’s Keith, Pidge. I think they’re—” Hunk cuts himself off and Lance can feel how he shifts his weight, feels the brush of Hunk’s neck against his hair as he looks down at him. Lance can feel the rumble of, “ _I think they’re through, Pidge_ ,” even if Hunk tries to whisper it and the reality of it hits Lance again, a cage around his lungs and a sick weight in his stomach.

“Oh shit.” Lance hears Pidge shuffle from one foot to the other, and Hunk must share a look with them because the next thing they’re saying is much softer. “Okay, uh. I’ll go tell Allura that uh—you’ll brief her in the morning, okay, Lance?” Lance nods. The movement dislodges the tears that had been fighting their way out. He wipes at his face roughly, his hands still shaking. Hearing someone else realize it, someone else bring it to life, is just enough to bring back feeling to Lance’s deadened nerves.

“It’s okay, buddy. It’s going to be okay.” Hunk is telling him, shuffling them further down the hall. He finally gets Lance into a bed and Lance can’t even tell if it’s his own or not. All he cares about is the fact that there’s a blanket, he can bury himself under it, and maybe, just maybe, no one will be able to find him under it. “Do you want me to stay here tonight, bud? I want to, but I won’t if you don’t want me to.”

Lance finally looks up and nods, unable to meet Hunk’s eyes. Hunk doesn’t seem to mind though, because he’s immediately kicking off his shoes and letting Lance hide his face in his shoulder. “Thanks, Hunk.” The words scratch his throat and Lance has to cough to clear them out.

Hunk’s arm winds around his shoulder, pulling him in just a little too tight, but Lance doesn’t say anything. “Bud, you don’t need to thank me, seriously.”

Lance wants to argue, wants to express how he _does_ need to thank him, wants to tell him how he can't be alone right now, and having Hunk here means the world to him—but he doesn't have the emotional energy to put his feelings into words right now. Instead, he just squeezes Hunk back, burying his face in the soft fabric of his shirt, and closes his eyes against how much he longs for the feel of Keith’s heartbeat beneath his palm right now.

Lance isn’t sure how much he actually sleeps and how much he’s just laying there, but at some point during the night, he hears the door slide open through a half-lucid dream. For a second his heart stops. Through the fog of exhaustion, for just that second, he thinks Keith has come back and is so sorry, and is going to tell him how this all was a mistake and—but then there’s a dip in the mattress and Lance can feel the small body of Pidge outlined against his back as they carefully slide in behind him. His teeth and heart clench against the disappointment that rolls over him—he’s stupid, he’s so, so stupid for letting even an inch of hope crawl in. He knows Keith better than to let himself think he’d take back a decision like that.

Pidge doesn’t wrap an arm around him or get too close, but Lance can feel where they’ve reached behind them to lay a hand on his arm as they curl up beside him. Lance squeezes his eyes tighter against the fresh tears. He starts to shake against all his efforts to hold all of it inside himself, and Pidge’s grip tightens on his arm. They don’t move until Lance does, as if they don’t want to scare him off, but as soon as Lance shuffles himself away from Hunk’s snoring form,  Pidge is flipping over and propping themselves up on one elbow.

Lance can’t see their expression in the dark, but he can hear the uneasy apprehension in their voice. “I don’t know what to say to make you feel better, Lance.” The desperate edge to their voice breaks a little more of something inside Lance, the pieces adding to the growing mound in the pit of his stomach. The thought that he's the cause of that hopeless tone in his friend's voice just feels too heavy to bear in his chest. He can't be that, not on top of all of the other things going on right now.

Lance breathes in a shuddering breath. He knows Pidge doesn’t do other people’s emotions very well, but the fact they’re here right now, and _trying,_ means so much to Lance, and he can’t let them think they’re not enough for him. Sure, what’s _enough_ for him right now would be Keith beside him like he was just a few weeks prior, but that doesn’t mean his friends mean any less to him. Even though he’s hurting more than he thinks he ever has, he can’t let them hurt for him. He can’t—because if he does, he doesn’t think he’d be able to pull himself back up under the weight of that guilt that is already churning low in his belly, underneath the weight of all those pieces.

“You don’t have to say anything, Pidgeling,” Lance breathes out, because actual words feel too rough against his raw throat.

Pidge shakes their head, hair falling in front of their eyes without their glasses as a barrier. “No, I know, I just. I wish there was a way I could fix this for you.”

“This isn’t something for you to fix,” Lance tells them firmly, finding a little strength in that small resolve. He can tell they’re about to counter and he’s too tired to argue, so he flips himself onto his back and pulls them with him. He ruffles their hair when they reluctantly settle in under his arm. Hunk twitches and lets out a loud snore at the movement, and both Lance and Pidge hold a breath—when Hunk doesn’t wake up, they both relax. Lance allows himself a small smile at the snort Pidge lets out, even if the lifting of his lips feels heavy and wrong. It feels a little bit more normal though, with someone to be _better_ for.

He clears his throat, trying to dislodge the emotion still stuck there. “Seriously, though. I’ll be okay. I just—” Lance swallows, trying to make a promise to himself with his words, as much as he’s promising Pidge. “I need some time. To you know, process this. I won’t let it stop me though. I was a paladin before all this, and I’ll be a paladin after.”

Lance can feel Pidge watching him for a long moment, before they sigh and roughly let their head fall back down against the crook of Lance’s shoulder. They blow a piece of hair out of their face and it floats up to tickle Lance’s nose. “Fine. One week. You get one week to… To do whatever it is you need to do to process. And then you’ll be okay?” Lance knows the uncertainty in their voice is supposed to be hidden, so he ignores it.

He feigns confidence he doesn’t feel when he says, “I bet you it’ll only be five days, dude.”

Pidge huffs out a laugh that feels a little bit more normal before yawning, “You’re on.”

Lance sighs and settles back in, knowing he probably won’t be able to fall back asleep. Five days; he gives himself five days. Not to get over it, but to build himself back up to enough of a functioning person that will be able to fool everyone. And maybe, if he’s lucky, he’ll fool himself too.

 

* * *

 

By the time Lance figures it’s acceptable to be awake, he manages to wiggle his way to the end of the bed and slips out from between Pidge and Hunk. He sits at the edge of the bed for a minute, listening to Hunk’s soft snoring and the shuffling Pidge does to take up the space he just left unoccupied. The day already feels like too much. He stares at his hands where they’re hanging between his knees and tries to will himself to stand, but there’s some kind of disconnect between his brain and his legs; there is an overwhelming pressure building from his neck down his spine at the thought of facing the day after everything that settled into reality yesterday.

How can this actually be real? He watches his thumb rub back and forth over his palm and barely feels it... but the feeling _is_ there, so he knows this isn’t some residual nightmare that just won’t end. That honestly kind of makes it worse, knowing the hollow pit in his chest actually belongs there, and it isn’t going to get filled when he wakes back up. This isn’t some sort of anxiety-fueled hallucination; this is real. The knowledge clogs Lance’s lungs with a heavy weight that blocks his throat. Rapid little intakes of air start to come more frequently than actual breath. Lance is starting to panic again—his chest feels like it’s winding in on itself—there’s shifting behind him, barely heard over the rush in his ears—

And then there’s a heavy hand on his shoulder, grabbing him and reeling him back in.

“Breath, Lance,” Hunk tells him gently. Lance gulps in air. His lungs burn from the effort. He realizes he’s trembling; small tremors run through his hands as he watches them shake. He knows it shouldn’t be calming but he focuses on that feeling, that action, and forces his breathing to normalize.

“Thanks, Hunk.” Lance’s voice is more gravel than actual words. He tries to clear his throat as quietly as possible, tossing a look back at Pidge to make sure he didn’t wake them up too. Thanking Hunk is the only thing he seems to be doing these days. And it _still_ isn’t enough to express the gratitude he feels, even when everything else is fuzzy at the edges. It’s a feeling he isn’t afraid to focus on because he knows it won’t hurt—it’s one step closer to normal. He grabs at it greedily as his breath settles back into his lungs.

“Of course, man. I thought I told you not to thank me, though.” Hunk’s huff of laughter is hesitant. Lance can’t let him feel like he needs to tiptoe around him, so he manages a small grin in response. Hunk’s shoulders seem to ease a little and Lance counts it as a win. “Do you want some breakfast?”

And this is normal, this feels like it should be normal, so Lance says yes. He moves quietly through his room, getting dressed beside Hunk, before they both head toward the kitchen. The halls don’t feel as loud during the day, and a small feeling of relief washes over Lance. He doesn’t think he can deal with feeling overwhelmed like that again so soon, which is why he averts his eyes as they walk past Keith’s door. He can’t help the way his heart starts hammering in his chest as they pass it, but he can save himself from looking at it.

There’s no one else in the kitchen—thank _God_ —so it gives Lance some time to prepare himself to face the others today. By now he’s sure Allura at least was able to piece together something happened. Between the way Keith was acting last night, and the fact Pidge had to tell her Lance wouldn’t be coming to a briefing, the thought is enough to mortify him.

Hunk starts to chop some pink fruit and Lance’s fingers drum a beat to match the sounds of the knife as he sits at the counter. He’s focusing a little too hard on the humiliation starting to roll in his stomach and it’s making him nauseous. He can’t let Allura think this is going to come between him and the mission; he feels so petty, getting so torn up so easily when there are people literally risking their lives in a war he’s supposed to be giving his entire attention to.

“Earth to Lance, hey—”

Hunk’s hand in front of his face makes him jump, flailing a little when he starts to tip back in his chair. He catches the edge of the counter to steady himself, looking up at Hunk sharply. “Dude.”

“Hey, sorry man, but to be fair I had been talking for like, at least three minutes and you were totally zoned out on me. You okay there?”

Lance shrugs with one shoulder, “I guess.”

Hunk snorts, his eye roll probably being felt all the way back to Earth. “You want to talk about it?”

Lance lowers his eyes at that, knowing they’d give away too much. It’s always hardest to hide things from Hunk, and he knows it. “Nothing to talk about, really. You were there last night.”

Lance hears Hunk pause his whipping of some cream. Lance hopes maybe if he doesn’t say anything else, Hunk will let it drop—but he knows he’s not that lucky.

“Yeah, I was there,” Hunk says slowly, resuming his whisking, “but I was hoping maybe you’d want to talk some of it out? You know... with me, maybe?”

Lance knocks his foot against the side of the counter and doesn’t answer.

“Because, you know, I know you guys had said something was going on between you two but since… Well, you know, since Shiro—” Hunk stops himself and Lance hears him swallow. “You haven’t really talked to me about it, so I wasn’t sure—well, I wanted you guys to be able to figure it out yourselves, you know?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I know.” Lance’s answer is soft; the air around him swallows up the words and leaves room for more, but he’s not sure how much he can say right now.

“Right. But after last night, after—how you reacted, I guess, I just—I didn’t realize how serious things had gotten between you two.” Hunk’s voice trails off and Lance supposes this is where he’s supposed to elaborate. Where he’s supposed to explain the mess that grew between him and Keith these last couple of months, the tangle of emotions and dependence, and he’s supposed to somehow make sense of it all.

When it comes down to it, the only residue left behind is hurt; so really, what did it all matter in the first place?

“It wasn’t,” Lance tells him, the words burning like a lie in his throat, “It wasn’t serious between us after all, I guess.”

  


* * *

 

  
Every time they enter a new section of the universe, the first thing Keith does is slip out and take Red to search. Lance doesn’t know if he thinks they all don’t notice or if he just doesn’t care what they think; honestly, Lance leans toward the latter and the thought stings. There was a time he was pretty sure his opinion actually meant something to Keith. He has to remind himself it was real, the feelings he had were— _are—_ real and so were Keith’s, because otherwise he starts to lose himself in a spiral of self-disappointment. He can’t afford to let himself go like that again.

He gave himself the five days; five days to get better—to get _okay_. He makes himself hold onto that promise to Pidge, giving himself purpose for moving forward every day. He can’t let himself bring the team down just because he lost the most important relationship he’s had since well. Since ever, but so what? He’s _Lance_. He tells himself that actually means something and makes himself keep going.

He won’t let this bring him—bring the team, the universe—down. In the end, nothing else matters, right? Really, he shouldn’t have tried to distract himself from the mission in the first place, especially not with Keith. He knew better from the start than to think he’d ever actually get to keep something as fragile as what they had, for as long as he did. They all had more important priorities and he put something trivial in front of them. Which is exactly what they all thought of him anyway, right? Loverboy Lance, getting caught up in some whirlwind romance.

He has to prove he’s more than the pain he gave himself.

“Okay, team, we’re going to try something a little different today. I know we’re all exhausted,” Coran’s voice cuts through Lance’s thoughts, as booming as the entrance he makes into the lounge with the door slamming behind him. “But! There is always time for a little jaunt around our mind palaces, eh?”

Hunk rolls his head across the back of the couch towards Lance—eyes wide, he makes a face that shows how much he wants to go on a jaunt—and Lance shoves his shoulder a little as he stands, joints popping. “Sure, Coran my man, what do you have in _mind_?” Lance throws a pair of finger guns towards Coran which earns him a hoot. He tries to feel the lazy grin he gives back, but the tug on his lips mainly feels like a weight too heavy to hold.

“Atta boy, Number Three! Come, I’ll explain once we’re all in the training room.” Coran doesn’t give them time to ask anything else—slamming through the door as loudly as he came in— leaving Lance and Hunk both blinking after him.

“Well, I guess we should go see what all that is about.”

Lance nods and offers a hand to help Hunk up, trying to look more enthusiastic than he feels. They make a more leisurely path towards the training room together, Lance shoving his hands in his pockets as he walks to keep from fidgeting. If Coran was this worked up, it means this is probably a team exercise—as in, the _whole_ team. He’s had his five days, but he hasn’t had much else, and Lance’s heart trembles at the thought of having to work with Keith.

Hunk—practical angel that he is, damn it—seems to sense the shift in Lance’s mood. “Hey man, are you gonna be okay?”

Lance raises one eyebrow, choosing the dumb approach. “I know I’m not the sharpest cookie in the toybox, Hunk, buddy, but I think I can handle Coran’s mind fortress or whatever.”

Hunk rolls his eyes and bumps his shoulder. “You know what I mean.”

“ ‘Fraid I don’t, bud. C’mon, we should hurry before they’ve assigned all the _extra hard_ training exercises,” Lance tells him with no room for argument, pulling his arm and leading them resolutely toward the training room.

When the doors open, Lance has to swallow his breath because Keith is already there—of course he is, because where else would he be? He’s only ever in the training room or in Red anymore, not that Lance keeps track of him. Keith is leaning against a far wall, jacket slung off to a corner, and Lance can’t tell if he’s actually lost in thought or if he’s staring at the ground to avoid seeing who’s coming through the door. Lance would bet ten weeks of chores it’s the latter, and it breaks his heart; Keith had always been a little more isolated, but he had started including himself just a little more until recently. Lance liked to think—for a few dumb seconds—that it had been him who brought that out in Keith, but whatever.

Lance and Hunk gravitate towards where Pidge is slumped over on the ground next to Coran, propping themselves up on their knee as Coran excitedly explains the technology of the helmet in his hand. Lance purposefully doesn’t turn to watch when he hears Keith walk over to join them; he does, however, take a breath, waits three seconds, and turns to give him a smile across from Hunk. Keith is staring straight ahead though, and Lance buries the sting in his chest with the rest of the loose pieces of his heart. 

“Paladins, we want to try a team building exercise,” Allura tells them all when Coran gets lost in his explanation and needs an elbow to the side.

“Oh, yes! We want to help bring you all together with a little exercise in understanding each other.”

Pidge groans. “This isn’t another mind meld exercise, is it?”

Coran laughs, wagging a finger. “Not quite, Number Five!”

If Lance didn’t know better, he’d think that Allura was resolutely not looking at him when she says, “No, Pidge, this exercise is more about communication with each other.”

“Right! So, what you’ll be doing is—” and Lance mostly tunes out the instructions, catching the drift about something regarding a puzzle and trying to solve it with their eyes closed and only one person—who gets to see the finished product—giving instructions. Simple, standard, and a nightmare when Coran asks Lance to try giving the directions first.

“Okay, uh, Pidge—yeah that piece right under your hand, put that with Hunk’s—no, to your right. Awesome! Okay, Keith, you uh.” Lance swallows, watching as Keith’s hand hesitates.

Hunk, a little too brightly, shoves a piece in the air. “What about this one, Lance? This piece feels like it’s important.”

Lance sighs and tries to not let the relief be heard in his voice. “Yeah, buddy, that sure is a good one. I think it goes in the corner? Can you feel your way up—yep, there you go.”

“Lance,” Keith says his name quietly after a few more turns of Pidge and Hunk passing pieces back and forth. Lance’s heart stutters at the sound, and for a second he thinks he misheard it. “Where does this piece go?”

Lance can feel his heartbeat in his fingertips as he drums them against his thigh. “Um—” Lance’s mind goes blank, the sound of Keith saying his name so softly vibrating in his ears.

“Lance?” There’s something else in Keith’s voice. Lance thinks he can see it buried somewhere deep in his guarded face—half hidden by the handkerchief Coran insisted they each wear over their eyes—but then it’s gone as Keith shifts his face down toward the floor, as if he could feel Lance’s gaze.

“To your right. Um. A little down. Yeah.”

Lance watches Keith’s fingers too closely as he presses the piece into place. “Thanks.”

There’s a little less tension between the four of them then, as Lance realizes Hunk and Pidge had both stopped feeling around for pieces during the interaction. Something was broken, a gate was left open, and Lance breathes a little easier. They’re able to get the puzzle done pretty quickly after that, Lance only hesitating a fraction when he needs Keith to move a piece, and it’s okay. This is okay.  

“Great work, Paladins! So good to see you all working together.” Allura claps when they finish, the blindfolds discarded. “With everything that’s happened lately, I know it’s hard to remember you are a team but with better communication, everyone will be sure to benefit.” Lance can tell how much she’s trying to lift everyone’s spirits, knows that the weight of Shiro’s absence has been a heavy burden on her shoulders.

So he pushes a smile out, one that would have been easier before, and says, “Pssh, Princess, we rock this communication thing so hard the Balmera would be jealous.” When she actually laughs, Lance’s smile turns a little softer around the edges.

“What’s the actual point to this?” Keith interrupts and Lance’s smile falters; the sudden change in tone is palpable, the shift of Keith’s voice cutting through the tentatively proud atmosphere.

“Number Four, the Princess just said—”

“No, I know what she said. But what’s the point? Why are we wasting time here, anyway?” Keith asks, tone rising from disinterest to hostile in less time than it takes Lance’s heart rate to catch up with the situation.

“Keith, communication is important between team members.” Allura’s voice is gentle but the look on her face is turning harder with each agitated fidget coming from Keith.

“Which would be great, if we were all here to actually communicate.” Keith throws out and Lance sees the way Allura stifles a flinch, her gaze steely.

There’s a decisive set to Allura’s shoulders when she says, “You can’t keep using Shiro to try to hurt the team, Keith.”  

Lance can’t stop his intake of breath in time, but neither can Pidge or Hunk. They all three watch, breath stuck in the crackling air between Keith and Allura, before Lance can’t take it and takes a step forward.

“Keith—”

“ _Don’t_ ,” Keith bites out and Lance flinches. Allura’s eyes twitch toward him but never fully leave Keith’s bristling form. Keith doesn’t look at him, and Lance isn’t sure if it hurts or not anymore. “I’m done here.”

“I think you are,” Allura agrees. “I think we _all_ are. Good work today, Paladins. I think you all should get some rest.” Keith doesn’t wait for her to finish before he’s out the door, and Lance can’t help but watch him leave.

 

* * *

 

After that, it’s hard to be around Keith and the team, but Lance manages. Not well, really, but he doesn’t think the team notices too much, so it counts. It has to count.

It gets harder the first time they have to run a mission as just the four of them, though. Well, the four of them and Kolivan’s men. Lance thinks a little bitterly how not fair it is, that even having a handful worth of Blade members on their team does nothing to fill the hole that just one person left. Shiro’s absence still feels like a wound in all of their sides, and for Lance that wound ripped open wide enough to swallow his heart, too. He thinks, in a weak moment, how nice it must be to have that effect on people because he’s pretty certain he wouldn’t leave a chasm nearly this big, if at all, were he to ever leave the team.

As soon as the thought passes through his mind, though, he regrets it. He feels like shit for even thinking it, and pulls at Blue’s controls a little too roughly and gets a growl in his head as a response.

“Sorry, girl. It’s not your fault, I know.” There was a warm buzz of reassurance fleeting through his mind that he thinks is supposed to tell him it’s not his fault, either, for feeling the way he does but he can’t help but ignore it. He can’t stop himself from feeling like he’ll never be _that_ important to anyone because look at what happened with Keith—the one person Lance was so sure would always want him, who left him with only a second’s thought.

He makes Blue push on with a bruising force and she tries to calm him with a purr that buzzes over his skin, but he can’t let himself have that kind of comfort right now or he’d give into the fragility that’s aching in his bones.

That ache doesn’t stop but it does get easier to ignore when Lance has to put on a show for all the locals who gather around their group after the Galra are run off into the atmosphere. It’s always easier when he has someone besides himself to pretend for; he never can hold up the facade very long when the only audience he has is staring at him in the mirror.

When that audience starts chanting for Voltron, though, Lance can feel his resolve crumble a little more.

He can also feel the tension begin to over-boil inside Keith, the look on his face slipping from where Lance watches him across the crowd. His eyes are still trained to find Keith, always looking for him, and he sees the moment when it all gets to be too much; Lance takes a step automatically to follow when Keith finally turns on his heel and silently goes back to Red. He stops himself, though, one arm wrapped around his belly as if that would be enough to keep his heart from falling down and out of it. He only gets a second to let himself slip before he remembers where he is and he plasters a grin on his face before whirling to meet the crowd.

 

* * *

 

 

Lance feels himself flinch against Keith’s outburst in front of all the leaders of the coalition; truthfully, he’s surprised Keith has kept his composure as much as he had these last couple of weeks. Lance was expecting something much worse, much sooner, but that thought only reminds him that he’s not there beside Keith anymore to have more than just a guess as to what’s going on inside his head.

With a faltering grin, Lance cracks a joke he doesn’t feel—something about how the Red lion always picks the fiery ones, and the leaders all give uneasy smiles at the attempt to lighten the mood. It takes more reassurance and grace from Allura to salvage the dinner than anyone else could ever hope to pull off, and Lance’s foot is tapping in antsy impatience by the time the group are satisfied and heading to their guest quarters on the Castle for the night.

As soon as the leaders are seen off, Lance is up and heading toward the hangar. He can feel Blue leading him there, a soft pull trying to lead him to where she thinks he will find the thing that will calm him down. He doesn’t have the heart to reach back out to her otherwise she may feel the heavy despair in his heart at the thought that even his lion knows all he wants is to be by Keith’s side again.

He knows the rest of the team is following behind him and he’s grateful, because he doesn’t really know what he’s going to do when he reaches his destination. He knows Keith hasn’t wanted to talk to him—let alone seek comfort from him—since that night. But Lance can’t stop himself from following the urge to be there for him, not when it pulls like a string in his chest leading him to where he’s supposed to be. That bone deep ache is insistent now, thrumming through each of his limbs and begging him to stop, but he knows there’s nothing that would stop him from going to Keith. Nothing ever has.

When they all reach the hangar and see Keith motionless, staring at Black like he has all the answers to every question that has kept them all up at night, they all stop and watch. Out of the corner of his eye, Lance can see as, one by one, the team turns toward him to go to Keith—and he’s moving before anyone can even say anything.

He has to force a casual tone and knows he’s standing a little too close, a little too soon, but everything in him is coming back to life at finally being close to Keith again. His heart breaks into a few more pieces because it’s not in the way he wants. There’s something between them, Lance can feel it, and there’s nothing he can do to touch it again.

“Hey, man.”

There’s a twitch of fingers against Lance’s and he holds his breath, only to let it out on a sharp exhale when Keith suddenly folds his arms across his chest.

“I know—” Lance catches himself and winces, their last argument ricocheting between his ears. “I uh. We—we can tell you’re hurting. We miss Shiro too, Keith. We all miss him. Finding someone to fly Black, it doesn’t mean we miss him any less. Or that we’ll stop looking for him. We’ll— _I’ll_ never stop looking for him, Keith.”

Keith’s gaze hesitantly shifts over to Lance, something vulnerable hidden behind his bangs. That small, hesitant opening gives Lance the strength to let his next words tumble out, barely wanting to catch them as they fall. “I—we. The team, we’re always going to be here for you, Keith. If you let us.” That look in Keith’s eye turns a little sharper, a little more acute and Lance can’t stop staring, his heartbeat thrumming in his veins.

Lance isn’t sure if it’s just him being hopeful or not but he thinks there’s a little regret there, too. “I know,” Keith says, the words barely more than a movement of lips, but Lance finds himself following the shape of them as his breath stills in his chest.

The moment is gone in a second, though, before Keith is looking back up at the looming presence of Black in front of them.

Lance is about to turn around and just forget about it when Keith mumbles out a quiet, powerful, “Thank you, Lance.”

Lance’s ribs constrict his lungs as he forces himself to meet Keith’s eyes—and after a moment that leaves him breathless and aching, he nods and heads back toward the others. When he passes them, he can’t meet the look of pity in their eyes.

 

* * *

 

It’s later that  night and Lance can’t sleep; not that it’s anything new, really. He has barely slept since that first night Keith left his room in a rush, and there’s really been nothing else since then to make his nights come easier. He always finds himself drifting around the ship and he knows it’s pathetic, because half of him hopes he would run into Keith again and it would be like a redo. A restart to the shitty end game he got.

The other half dreads it because he knows better than to trust that other, hopeful half of himself ever again.

The one rule he gives himself on these little trips, though, is that he can’t ever find himself near the command room again. He can’t bring himself to face that room because he feels like the memories of it would suffocate him as soon as he walked in. But tonight he decides to break it, in hopes that maybe it really would steal all his breath away, and he wouldn’t have to deal with any of this ever again.

He drags his fingers across one of the chairs, eyes lingering on the ground and lost in thought when he hears someone else enter behind him. Immediately, his spine stiffens and his eyes fly wide because _shit_ , if this really is Keith he’s _not ready_ okay, he hasn’t had time to prepare himself to pretend to be okay. He has to have a solid five minutes minimum to make himself ready to face the guy, Universe, so really next time be more considerate, _okay—_

“Lance?”

Allura’s soft question causes Lance’s shoulders to sag in relief, his heart rate dropping out of overdrive. Lance swings himself around, plastering a smile on because he can do _this_ , he can pretend for Allura, no problem. You got off easy this time, Universe.

“Fancy meeting you here, Princess,” Lance winces when his tone is just shy of right, but he rolls with it.

Allura stares at him for a moment, hesitating in the doorway, before tapping her fingers against the door in a decidedly not-Allura moment of uncertainty. “Do you mind if I join you?”

Lance fakes a yawn, stretching, “Well you know, Princess, I would love that, but really I was just about to hit the hay myself—”

“I was really hoping we could talk, Lance.” Her tone makes Lance’s arms drop, because he knows that tone. Goodbye uncertainty, hello royal authority. “About Keith, I mean.” As if there was anything else she would track him down for in the middle of the night after the dinner they just had.

Lance slumps, shuffling over to the edge of the room, right in front of the wide expanse of space he kind of wishes would swallow him up right about now. There’s a pit in his stomach as he hears Allura’s light footsteps follow behind him. She stops at his side and he resolutely does not start the conversation. If she wants to drag it out of him, fine, but he’s not going to make it easy on her.

Too much time passes, and Lance looks anywhere but over at Allura; he doesn't think he can take the look of pity in her eyes. There's too much in there. He’s never been one to be able to face something he doesn’t want to think about reflected in someone else’s eyes. His resolve lasts for about five more seconds before he’s sighing, “Look, Allura, I’m okay. I really am.”

“Lance, I’d appreciate if you didn’t lie to your princess, you know.” Allura lets out on a sigh as she settles down next to him on the floor of the command room. The way she sits looks slightly wrong, all bad angles, but if she’s uncomfortable it doesn’t show on her face. No, that same soft look she’s been giving him for the last few weeks is still there. It’s like she thinks he’s going to break, and honestly—it’s insulting. Lance can keep all of his broken emotions bottled up with the best of ‘em, thanks. 

“I’m not—” He starts but the look she gives him has him redirecting, “—not _really_ lying. I’m mostly okay.”

“Mostly okay isn’t what you deserve, Lance.”

Lance laughs a little because he can’t stop thinking about how before, he would have killed for Allura to be telling him how he deserves better, sitting alone curled up in an empty command room; before Keith, before his dumb, soft looks, before his quiet moments and barely-there vulnerability. Instead, all he can think about is how this is how everything started for him and Keith, really. This room was their beginning, and Lance’s heart aches under the weight of all the memories hanging in the air.

“I know, Princess. Don’t worry, though; I’m not going to let this affect my performance as a paladin, I promise.”

Lance praises himself for not jumping at the gentle hand she places on his shoulder; even the smallest touch lately seems to make him feel too overwhelmed, and he’s not proud of that. “I’m not worried about you as my paladin, Lance. I’m just worried about you as my _friend._ ” If it’s possible, that look on her face turns even softer, and Lance can’t deny that look for long before he’s meeting her eyes with his own half-hearted smile.

He turns his head to look back out at the expanse of space in front of them before he lets that smile drop. He tosses his next words back and forth—each of them a weight in his chest he knows he should let go of, but he can’t let someone else drown with him. “I know, and that means so much to me. I just don’t know what to tell you; I really will be okay. I’ll get over this. I should have known better, anyway.” The last part is barely above his breath, mostly said to berate himself one more time because _honestly_ , he probably deserves the reminder. He doesn’t think he’d survive letting himself forget again.

Allura definitely catches his intentions; he can see the way the edges of her features lose some of that softness. She stays quiet, though, and just sits beside him for a while. He can feel the warmth of her next to his shoulder, and even though it’s not exactly a comfortable silence, he appreciates the support she’s trying to show him. It means something, even if he can’t let her in far enough to know just how much.

Lance thinks he sees a shooting star and is about to point it out just to say something else—to steer the conversation away from his feelings—but then Allura is clearing her throat and shifting a little awkwardly. “I may be way off base here in what I’m about to say, since you insist you are alright, but I have seen the way you look when you don’t think anyone is watching anymore, Lance. I just want to help you. So, will you just listen?” There’s a long beat with her just looking him steadfastly in the eyes before Lance realizes she’s actually asking.

Silently, he nods.

“I don’t know exactly what you and Keith had. I know it was important to you though; to both of you. You both had been… So much more at peace recently and whether or not it’s because of each other, I cannot say, but I do know it’s been different since, well.” Allura clears her throat again, clearly uncomfortable, but Lance appreciates the way she soldiers on.

“Everything has an end, whether you expect it or not. It’s how you handle that end that defines the experience you had overall, I think. Something can still hurt and you can still be angry; you’re allowed to hurt and be angry at Keith, Lance. You’re allowed to be bitter. You’re allowed to wish it didn’t end. But you do still have to grow from it. You have to face it and take it in and know that it may not stop hurting for a very, very long time—but that doesn’t mean you can’t still move on from it.”

Allura doesn’t look like she’s fully completely talking about him and Keith anymore but Lance doesn’t point it out. He knows that letting go while still letting something hurt is a lesson she had to learn by herself, and his heart breaks even more knowing she’s trying to share that lesson with him for something he knows isn’t as harsh as the teacher she had to learn from. Overwhelmed, Lance lurches forward and wraps his arms around her shoulders, burying his face in her neck and letting himself have one shaky breath before steadying himself out.

It’s only a second of hesitation before she’s wrapping her arms around him too. It’s a gentle pressure at his back that is still very nearly too much, but he ignores the feeling because he has to do this. He has to push past this. “Thank you, Princess.”

Her soft dismissal of the appreciation does nothing to push it down in Lance’s chest. It’s this, he thinks, that will make her a great ruler and why he loves her; why he will continue to follow her. She is a soldier, royalty, a diplomat—but she is also so kind in the moments Lance knows mean the most, and that’s what makes her a leader. She lets herself be soft and lets herself feel, and it makes her no less valuable. He thinks maybe, just maybe, he can use that to lead himself out of this, too.

 

* * *

 

 

 

 


End file.
